Picking Up The Pieces
by Athena Alexandria
Summary: Post Through the Looking Glass. When Sawyer takes off after the rescue, Kate turns to Jack for help in getting her life back on track.
1. Chapter 1

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed "Secrets and Lies" (If you haven't, please do!). Since you seemed so excited about this idea, I decided to start posting right away. It's slightly AU: I loved the "Snake in the Mailbox", but seeing that three years from now, Jack and Kate still weren't together, broke my Jater's heart, so this is a more Jate-friendly version of what happened after Jack made the call... ;)

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Chapter 1. Lean On Me 

Jack hated that his last memory of Kate would be of her looking so sad.

They were camped at the radio tower after making the call, waiting for morning to begin the long trek back to the beach. All around them, people were talking and laughing, planning out what they were going to do as soon as they got home, but as hard as she tried to share their enthusiasm, he could tell that her heart just wasn't in it. He didn't know what she was thinking, but he could guess…

"You heard what Hurley said," he reminded her, sitting on the grass beside her, needing to see her smile just one more time before they parted ways, mostly likely forever. He couldn't see Sawyer approving of them maintaining even a platonic relationship after the island, and Jack couldn't say that he blamed him. He could try to kid himself, but he would always want more: he would always want her, almost as much as he wanted her to be happy. He wasn't sure that he had it in him to be her friend. "He's fine." He mustered a weak smile that he didn't really feel. "He saved their lives by going back."

He expected her to look pleased, but she just stared off into the dark jungle as she said, "You must be proud… of Juliet, I mean," her expression unreadable.

It took him a moment to realise why she'd said it, and then he felt himself colour slightly. For some reason, her thinking that he was with Juliet bothered him, more than it should under the circumstances. "I know what you saw, Kate," he told her, and she finally looked at him, "but for what it's worth, _she_ kissed _me. _I wasn't playing you off against each other. You know how I feel."

He hadn't meant to upset her, but she teared up again, and he found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he could see inside her, to what was really in her heart. Sometimes, like when she'd come back to the Others' camp to save him, or earlier, when she'd looked ready to step in front of Locke, he was sure that she must love him. But then he remembered the look in her eyes when she'd begged him to save Sawyer's life, and he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Jack…" she whispered, her eyes pleading with him to understand, and his heart sank as he realised that once again he was going to be left without an answer.

"It's okay," he agreed, trying to smooth over the ripples his declaration had caused in their relationship, "you don't have to say anything, I just needed you to hear it." He couldn't help the bitter note that crept into his voice as he added, "It doesn't matter anyway. Tomorrow, we're leaving this island, and you and Sawyer'll be able to start over, away from all of this."

_And me_, he added silently, wondering what she would do if he said it aloud, if it was really what she wanted.

"I don't think we can," she confessed, surprising him, after a long moment. "What he said to me…"

"He didn't mean it," Jack repeated automatically, wondering why he'd spent the better part of the day talking the woman he loved back into a relationship with another man: a man who treated her like crap. Maybe because it was the right thing to do, and he was all about the right thing, even if it killed him.

"Yes, he did," she said quietly, and it occurred to him suddenly that she was talking about something else.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked, half of him desperate not to hear it, the other half wounded when she said, "No," looking mortified.

He couldn't stand having confirmation that all of this was indeed about Sawyer, who he knew didn't deserve it, so excusing himself, he got up, but she called him back.

"I wanna tell you, I just… When I reminded him about the tests, and how the Others thought I might be pregnant, he said…" She bit her lip, ashamed to continue, "'Let's hope you're not'."

Jack was torn between confusion, and the gut-wrenching pain the idea had inflicted on him ever since first Juliet showed him the tape. "That _is _what you're hoping, isn't it?" he pressed, almost afraid of her answer, in case she told him that she wanted to have Sawyer's baby now that it looked like she would escape death. "I mean, the timing's not great," he added hastily in case she thought that he was being insensitive.

"Yeah," she agreed, letting out a nervous laugh as she emphasized, "God, yes," and Jack relaxed, "but it was the way he said it, Jack… it was like the idea of being a father was completely repulsive to him, not just now…" She took a deep breath, trying to be stoic, but he could see the tears glistening in her eyes. "I think if I am, he's gonna tell me to get rid of it."

"You don't have to do what he wants," he reminded her, sickened by the idea that she would allow Sawyer that much control over her. He would never ask her to do something like that, and he would never expect it. "You have other options."

"Do I?" she insisted, loosing the battle, and with a sinking feeling, he realised that she was probably right. "I can't do this on my own, not if I go to jail… Who's gonna take care of it then?"

Jack knew that he should have stayed out of it, that none of it was his business, but before he could stop himself, he found himself saying, "I will," and as soon as the words left his mouth, he realised that he meant them. He would. For her, he would.

"You can't be serious," she said, staring at him in shock, and for a moment, he was afraid that he'd overstepped his bounds. But then she softened, surveying him with wonder as she came to the same conclusion that he had. "You are, aren't you? You never say anything you don't mean." She smiled, a real smile. "Except when you told me not to come back for you."

He returned her smile, knowing that she had him there. If she hadn't, he would have been heartbroken; he would have convinced himself that she didn't care, that worse, she was actually relieved to have him out of the picture. "So do we have a deal, or do you still want to…?" he checked, clearing his throat, loathe to use the phrase that had hurt her so much, the phrase that he could almost hear coming out in the southerner's heavy drawl. As pissed off with him as he was, as fervently as he was beginning to rue the day that he'd stopped Sayid from killing him, he could never dismiss a life, even one belonging to Sawyer, in that way. It was cruel.

"No, we have a deal," she agreed, shaking on it, looking sadder than he thought she should when, if it turned out that she really was pregnant and alone because of it, he'd just given her the means to keep her child. "Thanks, Jack. You saved my life. Again."

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I hope that wasn't too boring, just the two of them talking, but hopefully you can see where all of this is headed. 

Next chapter: They return to the beach to meet the ship, and Kate gets her answer from Sawyer... ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you didn't find that chapter boring, because there's more talking in this one! And by the way, before you start flaming me for making Kate love Sawyer, remember, it's Jack's POV, so you have to read between the lines to figure out what she's really feeling... ;)

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Chapter 2. With A Little Help From My Friends 

The next morning, on the hike back to the beach, all Jack could thing about was the promise he'd made Kate. It seemed surreal now: had he really offered to take responsibility for her and Sawyer's child – assuming there was one – and if so, what did it mean?

Probably nothing, he thought gloomily as he walked beside her. Sawyer was already showing signs of remorse when he left her the day before; they would probably make up, like they always did, when she arrived safely back at camp, and everything he'd said would be forgotten. It had cheered her up when she was having a rough night, but that was all. There was no point obsessing over it.

When they reached camp, the freighter's captain, the man who called himself Minkowski, was already ashore with a handful of his crew, talking to Sayid; leaving the others to their reunions, he went to meet them, to find out what was happening.

"You are Jack Shephard?" Minkowski asked in his thick Russian accent when he saw Jack approaching, extending his hand when Jack nodded. "It's an honour to meet the hero of the survivors of Flight 815."

Jack felt himself blush at this description, catching sight of Kate stalking after Sawyer when he turned away to hide it. She looked more agitated than he'd seen her since their argument the day before; tuning everything else out, he was able to catch strains of their conversation, enough to glean what it was about.

"What exactly is it that you want from me, Kate?" Sawyer was saying, doing his best to ignore her as he shoved his belongings into his pack.

"I wanna know what's goin' on with you," she insisted, hands on her hips, standing her ground, though Jack could hear the wounded tremor in her voice. "With us."

"There ain't never _been_ an 'us'," he retorted, seeming to take pleasure in the pain he was inflicting on her when she stared at him, gobsmacked. "You knew what this was."

Even from his distance, Jack could see that she was close to tears, biting her bottom lip. "No, I'm not sure I do, _James_," she snapped, "so why don't you enlighten me, because I seem to remember you telling me you loved me back at the Others' camp."

An emotion Jack couldn't identify, regret, maybe, flickered over the southerner's face as he resumed his slipshod packing. "Yeah, well, I only said that to get in your pants again. Worked, didn't it?"

He flinched, clutching his cheek when Kate brought her palm into contact with it with an audible _slap_, but didn't look surprised. Jack thought he saw a flash of shame cross his countenance, but he covered it quickly with a cocky grin. "Easy there, Katie – you think you're the first girl to get conned? Let me teach you a little somethin' about how the world really works – when a man says that, he's only after one thing. Any one who says he's not is lyin'."

Jack tore his eyes away from them when Kate glanced in his direction, focusing on Minkowski, who wanted to know why Naomi wasn't with them, but he felt his attention drawn back to her when she said, "So what about the baby?", her voice rising in a mixture of fury and disgust.

"There ain't no baby, Kate," Sawyer told her, deadly serious now, his eyes glinting with menace as he took a step towards her, forcing her to back up. "And if there is? It ain't mine."

This time when he walked away from her, she didn't try to follow, drifting despondently to her own tent. Jack wanted to go to her, to make sure that she was all right, but he still hadn't answered Minkowski's question, or finished making the arrangements for their departure. The best thing he could do for her now was get her off this island, and away from Sawyer, so he decided to focus on that.

He couldn't incriminate Locke in spite of the insane way he'd behaved, so he told Minkowski that Naomi had been killed by one of the Others, which was true enough, since Locke had been under Ben's sway. The Russian wanted to go back for the body, but afraid that any further delays would cost them their chance of going home, Jack assured him that they'd buried it with all due respect before returning to the beach.

"If all of your people are here now, we'd like to be off," Minkowski told him once he'd solemnly accepted their loss, and Jack nodded, thinking of Charlie, who wouldn't be going home, and he and the others began making preparations to take them aboard.

Jack glimpsed Kate once in the furore that followed, but she disappeared before he could break away to talk to her, and no one seemed to know where she went. It took him almost an hour to track her down to a remote corner of the deck, where she was staring darkly out to sea.

"I'm not really in the mood for conversation," she said when she spotted him out of the corner of her eye, sighing almost inaudibly when he leant on the railing beside her.

"That's okay," he agreed, knowing that if he waited long enough, she'd cave and give him something. "I'm just enjoying the view."

She eyed him sidelong, checking to see if he was being coy, cracking a tiny smile when she saw that he was watching her. "What do you want, Jack? I know you coming here wasn't an accident."

He decided to drop the pretence of innocence then, glancing over at her with concern. "I heard you talking to Sawyer," he confessed, and she cast her eyes down to the deck, resigned, and he thought maybe even a little ashamed. "I'm pretty sure the whole camp heard," he added, in case she realised he'd been listening, "and I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

She flashed him a smile that was more of a grimace as she said, "I'm great," sounding bitter. "I'm broke, single, probably pregnant, and to top it all off, I'm facing twenty to life if the U.S. government ever figures out I didn't actually die in a plane crash. Just great," she finished, drawing out the first syllable, before pursing her lips in an unhappy frown.

"It could be worse," he told her, mostly for something to say, and she stared back at him, incredulous.

"How?"

"I don't know," he agreed with a laugh. "That's just what my father used to say. I guess he wanted me to stop bothering him."

"You don't have to keep doing this, you know," she said after a long moment, looking sad as she glanced over at him, then back out at the horizon. "I'm a big girl – big enough to deal with my own mistakes."

Jack couldn't help feeling a little thrill of excitement at her choice of words, and the idea that she considered Sawyer a mistake. He'd tried to be happy for her, because he thought that being with Sawyer made her happy, but now that he saw that it didn't, it was about time that she realised he wasn't good enough for her, even if she wasn't ready to return Jack's feelings. "I know," he agreed, "but that doesn't mean you can't accept a little help from your friends now and then."

She seemed to resent the word as much as he did, though he wasn't sure it was for the same reason. "Friend," she repeated with another grimace. "I'm not sure I deserve you as a friend."

"Maybe not," he allowed, knowing that he was probably crazy to keep opening himself up to more pain, "but you've got me, so you can stop trying to be an island. We're all here for you, Kate."

_I'm here for you._

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Next chapter: Juliet and the freighter docks in L.A... ;) 


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to those of you who reviewed -- to everyone else, I know it's been a bit depressing, and Skate-ish, so far, but bear with me, and I promise you that you, like Jack, will be rewarded for your patience. That's all I can say without giving too much away, that, and remember, Jack is what's called an "unreliable narrator" in this -- everything is filtered through his perception, so it's biased by his beliefs. So just trust me, please? I think by now I've earned it, especially after all the controversy my last fic caused in the beginning. And the one before that, _and_ the one before that... And if you really hate it, please tell me! ;)

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Chapter 3. Two Lost Souls 

The freighter took them to L.A., to where Penny Widmore was waiting to meet them.

Watching her joyful reunion with Desmond, Jack couldn't help feeling envious. They both seemed so sure of themselves, but with Kate… he couldn't be sure of anything from one moment to the next. He couldn't even be sure that she saw him as anything more than a shoulder to cry on when everything else in her life was falling apart.

In spite of his best efforts, she remained depressed throughout the voyage, though he no longer believed that this was just about Sawyer. While most of the survivors viewed the rescue as a new beginning, she seemed to see it an ending, not just of an era, but of her freedom, and any chance at future happiness. He didn't know how to tell her that she was wrong, that he would make sure of it.

There were hugs and tears all around as people left the docks in search of loved ones, or just to find out what had happened to the lives they'd left behind. Penny had set up a phone line, generously footing what had to be a pretty hefty bill herself, so that they could make contact with friends and relatives who didn't live in the area.

With his mother less than twenty minutes away, Jack knew that he should visit her, but he didn't have the strength to explain the fact that he hadn't even been able to give his father a decent burial, so, vowing to do it sometime soon, he said goodbye to his friends, wondering if she'd kept his apartment. All he wanted to do now was take a hot shower and crawl into bed. Everything else could wait until morning.

He was standing there trying to decide whether or not he had enough money for a cab, or if he should just take advantage of the weather and walk, when Juliet approached him, beaming with happiness.

"I just called my sister and she's flying up to meet me," she said, looking regretful as she seemed to realise what this would mean. She was going back to Miami. It was unlikely that they would ever see each other again. "I finally get to meet my nephew."

"Good for you," he said, wishing that for all his determination to get them rescued, he had somewhere to rush off to. _Someone_ to rush off to.

"You're welcome to stay," she offered, not seeming to want to cut the conversation short. "I'm sure she'd love to meet you."

"Thanks, but I should probably go," he told her, not really sure why the idea of being around when her family got there made him so uncomfortable. Maybe because it implied commitment, and he wasn't committed, to her, at least. "Good luck with everything, though. I hope it all works out for you."

"Yeah, you too," she agreed with a forced smile, noticeably disappointed.

He felt a stab of guilt, but he knew better than to encourage her. She'd be all right; it wasn't her he was worried about.

Scanning the crowd, he saw Kate talking to Sun, who seemed reluctant to leave her.

As he got closer, he could hear her saying, "It's okay, I called my mom, and she's on her way. You don't have to wait," she spotted him then, and her expression flooded with relief, "I'll just stay with Jack until she gets here."

"I thought you said your mom was dead?" he reminded her when, with a quick hug, and a smile for Jack, Sun departed.

"She is," she agreed, sinking onto a bench with a tired sigh. "But Sun doesn't know that."

"So what're your plans?" he asked, sitting down beside her, glad that he wasn't the only one feeling lost. Sawyer seemed to have disappeared, leaving Kate to deal with the situation on her own, including the possible pregnancy. Jack couldn't say he was sorry to see him go.

"I don't know," she confessed, "but I should get out of here before the media catches wind of all this, or it won't matter."

She stood, hovering awkwardly in front of him as if unsure whether or not she should hug him goodbye, but before she could walk out of his life, he said, surprising himself with his audacity, "Why don't you come home with me? Just until you figure out what you're gonna do."

She licked her lips, seeming to search his words for insincerity, or innuendo, then deciding that she was safe with him, nodded. "Okay," she agreed softly, her eyes glistening with what might have been tears as she gave him a grateful smile. "If it's not gonna put you out."

"It's fine, Kate," he assured her, returning her smile as they left the docks, relieved that he wouldn't have to part from her just yet.

He wasn't sure what to say to her now that the air between them had changed, so he decided to lighten the mood. "Until I can find out what happened to my accounts, I've only got about twenty bucks, so we have a choice," he began, and she turned to him, listening. "We get a cab to my place, or we can order take out."

"Doesn't seem like much of a choice," she told him dubiously, and he laughed.

"You're right, what's a couple of mile walk through the streets of L.A. compared to a hike to _The Black Rock_?"

"So long as I get pizza at the end," she told him with a grin, and he thought this might just be the best idea he'd ever had.

His apartment was still there, and all of his stuff, but the power had been cut, along with the water and phone line, so they ended up having to go out to eat.

"I'll get it all sorted out tomorrow," he assured her as he watched her inhale half a pizza like it'd been a week since her last meal, but she just smiled.

"After three months on an island, I think I can cope without appliances for a couple of days if you've got more important things to do." She flashed him a sheepish grin as she took a sip of her drink. "Although I wouldn't mind a shower. I feel like a hobo using public restrooms to wash up."

"Tomorrow," he agreed, still finding it hard to believe that he was there with her in the real world, on what almost passed for a date. He felt like everything was finally coming together for them: for _him_.

It was late by the time they returned to the apartment, so, digging a torch out of the kitchen cabinet, he showed Kate to his room; her room now, at least for the time being.

"You sure you don't want me to take the couch?" she asked, looking guilty as she deposited her pack onto the floor. "Because I've had worse."

He decided not to look too deeply into this, disturbed by the idea of her sleeping on park benches, or under bridges, turning it into a joke instead. "What kind of a gentleman would that make me, Kate?" he deadpanned, surprised when her eyes dampened noticeably this time.

"Goodnight, Jack," she told him softly, lingering in the doorway like she wanted to say something more, before letting it click into place, leaving Jack to wonder what else he might have heard if she hadn't chosen that moment to close it.

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Next chapter: Jack and Kate continue to get settled in L.A... ;) 


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks guys! I'm glad you can all see that I _did_ not go crazy and fall in love with Skate! Thanks to Shavanda for giving me the inspiration for this chapter. ;)

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Chapter 4. The Green-Eyed Monster

Jack couldn't sleep that night, thinking about Kate, and the moment he almost believed that she was going to say, "I love you too". It was a long shot, probably the work of his imagination combined with too much wishful thinking, but he needed to convince himself that there was still hope, that if she didn't already, she might learn to love him the way he loved her.

When he finally drifted off, even his dreams were of her and _that kiss_, the one he was afraid they were doomed never to repeat, until a startled cry jerked him awake.

Cracking open his eyes, remembering where he was, he expected to see her face looming over him, but it wasn't, it was Marc's, as pale as if he'd seen a ghost, which in a sense, Jack mused, he had.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded when he recovered his voice, punching Jack hard in the bicep as he added, "I thought you were dead, man."

"That doesn't explain what you're doing in my apartment," Jack pointed out, using his pillow to shield himself from further blows.

"Your mom sent me over to start clearing the place out. I guess she didn't see the point of renewing the lease." He raised his arms again as Jack got up off the couch, and Jack tensed, expecting another dead arm, but this time, his friend pulled him into a fierce hug. "Why didn't you tell anyone you were back, man? I've been going out of my mind."

"It was late," he explained, realising now what a feeble excuse this was, but he was saved from having to making anything more satisfactory up when the bedroom door swung open and Kate walked out.

"Jack is…?" she began, freezing when she saw that they had company. "Who's this?" she asked, looking wary, and he could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to decide whether or not she should run.

"Kate, this is Marc Silverman, my best friend since we were ten years old," he told her, hoping that this would be enough to convince her to trust him, cursing himself for not anticipating a situation like this.

"Hi," she said with a polite, albeit uncomfortable smile, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe.

"Marc, this is Kate, my… we met after the plane crash," he finished, not knowing how else to explain their relationship to someone who hadn't been there. On the island, they were always 'Jack and Kate', like two halves of the same whole. He'd never really tried to put a label on it before.

"So not your girlfriend then?" Marc said, but he was looking at Kate; taking in her tousled curls and sleepy green eyes, his mouth fell slightly open and he smiled. "Nice to meet you, Kate."

Jack couldn't help the jealousy that stirred inside him at the way his friend was staring at her; he'd loved her for so long that he'd forgotten how beautiful she was on the surface, even, _especially_, as dishevelled as she was now. "If that's all you came here for then you should probably go," he told him, knowing that he was being abrupt, but not caring, at least not as much as he should. "I have a lot of things to do today."

"Sure, man," Marc agreed, looking miffed as Jack escorted him to the door. "I guess I'll see you when you get things sorted?"

"I'll stop by," Jack told him, determined not to have him in his apartment again anytime soon. It was irrational, but he didn't want him talking to Kate, and not because she was a fugitive…

His friend managed to get a hurried "Nice meeting you again" out to Kate before Jack closed the door in his face, feeling strangely relieved.

Snapping the deadbolt shut behind him, against any other invited guests, he turned to see Kate watching him curiously. "What?" he asked, recognising her look, the one that always meant she was going to challenge him on something.

"It's just…" she furrowed her brow, trying to find the right words, "That was pretty rude," she finished, coming out of the bedroom now that Marc was gone. Her long dark curls were tangled, her tank top rumpled from sleep, but she was still, by far, the most perfect woman he had ever seen. He couldn't really blame Marc for noticing, even if he didn't see her the way he did.

He didn't know how to defend his actions without sounding ridiculous, so he said, "So was the way he was looking at you".

He expected her to side with him, but she laughed as she perched on the arm of the couch, drawing her knees up against her. "I've been 'looked at' before, Jack. It's not a big deal." She didn't seem angry or affronted, more amused at what she must have taken as over-protectiveness on his part.

"It's not like I'm gonna go out with him," she added, and he relaxed, until she went on, "My life's complicated enough without adding more collateral damage." As he tried to determine whether or not this extended to him, she slid onto the seat of the couch, opening a magazine she found on the coffee table as she concluded, so casually that he wasn't sure how to take it, "So you can relax, Jack – I'm all yours."

He wanted to believe that she was flirting with him, and not just in a friendly, fun way this time; he wanted to believe it more than anything; but he was tired of having his hopes crushed, so he said nothing.

When he didn't speak, she glanced up at him, a shadow passing over her features. "Didn't you just say you have stuff to do today?"

She was hurt, probably because whatever game she was playing, he wasn't going along with it; he knew her well enough by now to know that. "Wanna come for the ride? I can show you L.A.," he said, hoping to win back her favour, but loathe to apologise for something that wasn't really his fault. He was the one who'd been completely honest; she knew how he felt.

"I should probably lay low," she reminded him with a regretful smile that at least told him that she was grateful for the offer, settling more comfortably on the couch, stretching her legs out like she'd always lived there.

He'd almost forgotten that he was harbouring a fugitive, but somehow, the idea didn't fill him with the horror it once would have. "I'll be back in a couple of hours," he told her, taking a jacket from the rack behind the door, adding, as an afterthought, "Is there anything you want me to pick up while I'm out?"

She glanced up from the magazine, straightening as she opened her mouth, then closed it again, sinking back onto the couch. "No, I'm good," she agreed with a forced smile, and he had a feeling that he knew what she was going to ask, but was afraid to mention. "Enjoy your errands."

He could see that she was embarrassed, so he decided not to press her, figuring that it was something he could take care of himself, without them having to have an awkward conversation about it. After all, he needed an answer almost as much as she did. "I'll bring back some groceries," he told her as he let himself out, the everydayness of the conversation leaving him with the strangest urge to kiss her goodbye.

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Next chapter: Jack and Kate talk about the future... (I can go into the details of Jack's errands if you want, but I think it'd be a bit boring!) ;) 


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews. I'm going away for a couple of days, so I probably won't be able to update until the middle of next week, but I'll try to keep writing in the mean time. ;)

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Chapter 5. Past Mistakes 

When Jack let himself into the apartment late that afternoon, Kate was still on the couch, watching TV.

"Looks like the power's back on," he said as he deposited the grocery bags he was carrying onto the kitchen counter.

"Looks like," she agreed, stretching as she hit the power button on the remote and got up to meet him. "We were on the news before, or Hurley was, talking about the rescue. Guess the media must've found out about it."

"I know," Jack agreed, letting out a humourless laugh as he went on, "My mom saw the report. Let's just say that describing her as 'pissed' would be an understatement."

She had vented her fury at him for full hour before he made his excuses and left, promising to call in on her again soon.

Kate winced sympathetically as she joined him in the kitchen, and he noticed for the first time that her hair was wet, making it hang down almost to her waist. "I hope you don't mind," she said as she started to help him unpack, "but I took that shower you promised me."

The mention of Kate and showers took him back, as it always did, to that day in the Hatch, so he cleared his throat, trying to shake the memory as he said, "I wasn't sure what you eat – I remember you said something about being a vegetarian – so I just got the basics, but I can go to the store again tomorrow."

"This is fine," she insisted, flashing him a grateful smile but if faded when she reached back into the bag, pulling out a long, thin box. "What's this?" she asked, holding it up, her voice taking on a defensive note.

"That," he told her, feeling suddenly awkward again as cleared his throat, wondering for the umpteenth time if he'd done the right thing, "is for you. Before you make any plans, I figured you might wanna…"

What? he asked himself, swallowing hard. Find out whether or not you're having that redneck's baby?

She stared at it for a long moment, as if she'd never seen a pregnancy test before, dropping it back into the bag like she thought it might bite her. "Jack, I can't," she whispered, pleading with her eyes to drop the subject.

"Yes, you can," he told her, knowing that he should respect her wish, but unable to do so; the suspense was driving him to distraction, and he was pretty sure it was doing the same for her.

"No, Jack, I _can't_," she repeated, more forcefully this time. What if…?" Her lower lip trembled as she trailed off, leaving the rest of the thought unsaid, but it didn't matter, because he knew what she was thinking.

She didn't want a baby, at least, not like this.

"I told you, I'm gonna help you," he reminded her, wondering if he would still be so sure of this when faced with the reality. Could he really look at a child that she and Sawyer had created and not resent it in some way? And not think of _that night_, and what he'd witnessed on the monitors?

He felt guilty for even contemplating abandoning her like Sawyer, however hypothetically, so he said, "You're not alone in this," as if to strengthen his promise.

"I should be." Holding her hands up as if she didn't want to hear any more, she backed away from him, into the living room, and for a moment, he was afraid that she was heading for the door. But she didn't, looking lost, as if she wanted to escape, but didn't know where to.

"Why?" he pressed, frustrated by her refusal to let him come to her aid. It was always the same; she always had to be strong, even when she wasn't.

"Because it has nothing to do with you," she snapped, and he felt as if he'd been slapped until she added, "It's not your mistake, it's _mine_, and can't keep asking you to fix everything all the time."

"You're not asking me to do anything," he reminded her, doing his best to keep his temper in check. "I offered."

She softened towards him, looking sad as she said, "You've got everything going for you, Jack – you're smart, successful… any woman would give her right arm to have you. Why are you so determined to throw it all away on someone like me?" He opened his mouth to tell her that he didn't want _any woman_, but she cut him off, almost as if she could hear his thoughts. "And don't say you love me again because that just makes it harder."

"It doesn't have to," he argued, moving towards her, but she crossed her arms as if to ward him off.

"Yes it does. I'm no good for you, Jack – when're you gonna see it? The island was supposed to be my second chance, and I couldn't even get that right. I screwed it all up, just like I'm gonna screw up your life if you let me."

It was the closest she'd ever come to admitting her feelings, but he couldn't enjoy it, as wretched as he was. "You're not the only one who screwed up – if I hadn't let Michael lead you into that trap…" He swallowed again, unsure of where he was trying to say. His actions had pushed her into Sawyer's arms, but that didn't mean that she didn't still deserve most of the blame.

"Just let me help you, okay?" he pleaded, afraid that if she decided to go it alone, he would lose her again, this time, for good. "Please."

"Okay," she agreed, reluctantly taking the test when he held it out to her.

"We can wait if you need time to prepare yourself, but you can't keep putting it off," he told her gently, his sympathy for her returning now that he'd won, and she wasn't trying to fight him anymore.

"No, you're right," she agreed with grim determination, fidgeting with the box. "I just wanna get this over with so I can get on with my life… whatever that turns out to be."

As she headed to the bathroom, he called after her, "I'll be right here if you need me."

She stopped at these words, turning back to face him. "I know it's probably the last thing you wanna do," she began with an uncomfortable smile, as if she already expected him to say no, "but will you wait with me? Just until I get the results."

As much as he usually enjoyed her company, it was the last place he wanted to be, but he nodded, unable to begrudge her that after insisting that he would be there for her. "Sure."

"Thanks," she said, her expression tight, her freckles standing out against her pale, nervous face as she stepped into the bathroom, and closed the door.

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I know, I'm a jerk for leaving you on a cliffhanger, but I promise fluff (and more future talk) next chapter along with an answer! ;) 


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the reviews, and for your patience! I just got back from my trip today, but between the plane and the bus, I managed to put together the much-anticipated chapter 6, the outcome of which, I'm hoping, will be worth the wait... ;)

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Chapter 6. The Moment Of Truth 

Half an hour later, when Kate still hadn't emerged, Jack began to worry that she'd changed her mind about involving him, but, finally, the door creaked open, and she came back into the living room with a tentative smile.

"Hey."

She seemed almost afraid of him as she took in his taut expression; so much so that his first thought was that she had her answer, and was trying to figure out how to tell him.

"Did you…?" he asked, his mouth dry, his heart constricting painfully in his chest.

"Yeah," she agreed, lifting the plastic cylinder without enthusiasm as she perched on the couch beside him, and he felt himself relax when it didn't tell him anything conclusive. Yet.

He felt guilty, wishing someone, or a potential someone, at least, out of existence, but he couldn't deny the fact that as much as he loved her; _because_ he loved her; it bothered him to know that any child she might be having wasn't his. Even if Sawyer stayed out of the picture, it was something that they would always share; a connection, one that, if he was completely honest with himself, Jack was afraid would only deepen with time.

Though he would never admit it to Kate, his biggest fear was that, if she had a child with Sawyer, she would never get over him, and, at best, he would only ever be her second choice. He wasn't sure which was worse: that, or never being with her at all.

"How long?" he asked as she set the test on the coffee table, noticing, for the first time, that she was gripping it so tightly that her knuckles were almost white.

"Three minutes," she told him with a nervous smile, her voice shaking as she tried to suppress the tears that were forming at the corners of her eyes. "It doesn't seem like enough time." She didn't explain what she meant by this, but somehow, he knew: she wasn't ready for her life to change, the thought making him resent the southerner more than he already did.

"Hey," he said softly, touching her arm to get her to look at him, his heart going out to her in spite of the betrayal he still felt, especially now that she'd been betrayed herself. She was so scared; he could feel it coming off of her in waves; and he couldn't help thinking that she'd learnt her lesson the hard way when it came to getting involved with guys like Sawyer. "It's gonna be okay."

_I'm gonna make it okay_, he added silently, but she shook her head. "No, it's not," she insisted, her face crumpling, one hand coming up to shield the fact that she was crying. "Nothing's okay. I can't do this, Jack."

"What can't you do?" he asked gently, sliding off of the couch so that he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. "Tell me, Kate."

"Everything," she choked out after a long moment, dropping her hand and meeting his eyes with her swollen, pink-rimmed green ones. "I'm just so tired."

The resignation in her tone scared him; he didn't know what to say, so he reached for her hand, stroking the back of it lightly with his thumb. She looked surprised at the sudden contract, but didn't pull away, responding by wrapping her fingers more tightly around his. "Let's just take it one step at a time, okay?" he told her, and this time, she nodded. "At least until we know what we're dealing with," he added hastily in case she tried to protest again.

Glancing down at her lap, where their fingers were still entwined, realising that he'd crossed the invisible barrier between them by touching her, he let go, clearing his throat as he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head. "Have you thought about what you're gonna do if…?" he asked, swallowing hard as the moment dissipated, leaving him to face reality again. He couldn't bring himself to say it, so he finished, lamely, "…if it comes out positive?" He gestured to the test, sitting, inanimate, innocuous, on the table between them, like a bomb waiting to go off, turning their lives upside down.

"No, not really," she agreed, folding her arms, tucking her hands into her armpits as if she wasn't sure what to do with them now that he wasn't holding them anymore. "But you seem to want me to…" she licked her lips, closing her eyes briefly before almost whispering, "…keep it."

He could feel himself becoming angry again at her choice of words, and the way that she still didn't seem prepared to take responsibility for her own actions. "It's not about what I want, Kate," he told her, knowing that what she'd said wasn't true. He didn't want this to be happening at all. He wanted to do it all properly with her once she was free and they could start a new life together, not just figuratively, but for real. "You have to make the decision you think you can live with."

"Because I'm so good at that," she ground out miserably, leaning back in her seat, and wiping her eyes, as the tears started up again. "My whole adult life, I don't think I've made a decision I haven't regretted."

It seemed like she was being dramatic, but with Kate, he could never tell. "Do you regret going to Australia?" he asked, watching her face as he pushed himself to his feet, moving to sit back down beside her on the couch.

She looked like she wanted to say yes, but, after a moment's deliberation, she shook her head. "Except that," she agreed with a faint smile that made him smile too.

He thought about asking her why, but he was afraid of the answer, so he said nothing, glancing at his watch instead. "One minute to go," he told her, and her face fell.

"I feel like I should be saying something profound," she joked, paling, and he took her hand again, squeezing it gently in his.

"You're not getting executed, Kate," he reminded her, wondering, afterwards, if this was a poor choice of words under the circumstances.

"Feels a little like it," she confessed with an uncomfortable smile, covering her eyes with her free hand as the seconds ticked by, leading into the final countdown.

"You have to check it, okay?" she pleaded when the time was almost up, sounding guilty, almost apologetic, knowing that he was only there as a favour to her, and then, reluctantly. "I don't think I can."

He was too tense to argue with her, so he nodded, waiting out the remaining half a minute in silence, picking up the test when it was done. He'd expected to feel relieved if the results came back negative, and she wasn't pregnant, but now that it had happened, and he'd gotten his wish, he found that if left him strangely hollow. He was sure that he could've warmed to the idea of a baby if it meant Kate staying with him, but now…

He would never have that chance. It was as if the ties that bound her to him had suddenly dissolved, leaving her free to go back on the run, or to find Sawyer, if she so chose. Either way, she didn't need him anymore.

"You're not pregnant," he told her, his voice coming out so flat and defeated that he was sure she must have noticed, and he thought that she looked disappointed too.

"Guess I dodged a bullet, huh?" she said as she uncovered her eyes, taking the test, and her hand, back from him, but she didn't seem as happy as he thought she should be given her earlier outburst.

"Yeah," he agreed, slumping against the back of the couch, massaging his forehead, as he watched her toss the test into the trash, and wash her hands, starting on dinner without another word about it. She seemed at home in his kitchen, and his apartment, but he couldn't help wondering if she'd still feel that way tomorrow. "Guess we both did."

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I know some of you are gonna be disappointed that Kate's not pregnant, but I'm going to pay it off in what I hope will be an interesting way further down the line.

Next chapter: Jack and Kate discuss her next move... ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad most of you seem okay with the idea of Kate not being pregnant -- in addition to putting another obstacle in the way of their relationship, I think it would be too much of a rehash of "Ordered Chaos", even if she decided to keep the baby... ;)

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Chapter 7. What Now? 

"So I guess you'll be heading out soon?" Jack said later that night when they were both seated at the table. Apparently determined to contribute something to the household, Kate had cooked, but he couldn't seem to work up much of an appetite, and neither, it appeared, could she.

She glanced up, studying him for a long moment, before returning her attention to her food. "Yeah," she agreed after a reluctant pause, pushing a clod of pasta across her plate with her fork. As far as he could tell, she hadn't eaten any of it, just rearranged it to make it look like she had. He couldn't blame her, although he couldn't help wondering if her sombre mood stemmed from the realisation that she wasn't going to become a mother any time soon. Maybe ever, given that her fugitive status was still unresolved. "I should probably check in with my dad, let him know I'm okay."

She seemed to be under the impression that he wanted her to go now that she was less of a charity case; he opened his mouth to correct this assumption, or at least offer her another invitation, but before he could figure out what he was going to say, she changed the subject, turning it back on him. "So what about you? What're you gonna do now that you're back in the real world?"

In truth, he had no idea; until that moment, all of his plans had revolved around helping her, but he was afraid to tell her this, so he said, "I'm thinking about going back to the hospital if I can get them to give me my old job back." After spending three months on an island reassessing his priorities, he wasn't sure that this was really what he wanted; in fact, he knew that it wasn't; but alone, without her, he couldn't think of a better way to forget that.

"That's good," she agreed. "People need you, Jack," but her voice, and the smile that accompanied it, were hollow and unconvincing.

Seeing the way her face fell when she thought he wasn't looking, he wished that, if she counted herself among this group, she would just tell him, instead of being so darn stubborn about it. He'd corrected her assumption that he was mad about their kiss, even told her that he loved her; he'd invited her to move into his house, and offered to help her get her life back on track: he didn't know how else to get it across to her that the ball was in her court. She was so good at making excuses; sometimes he wondered if this was just an excuse in itself.

"So what about Sawyer?" he couldn't help asking; she froze, her body going rigid as she lifted her eyes back to his, looking like a deer caught under the headlights.

"What about him?" she asked, doing her best to cover her reaction to the name by sipping her drink, and wiping her mouth with her napkin, but he could tell that the southerner wasn't something she wanted to talk about.

Of course this didn't make him any less determined to bring him up.

"Are you gonna try to find him?" he asked, putting his fork down, and watching her carefully, disheartened by the way she shifted under his gaze, like she was already preparing a lie. While he was aware of the irony of being the one to act like the jealous boyfriend, he needed to know. He was sick of pining for her, wondering if she was doing the same over Sawyer.

"No," she told him without even having to think, and he was comforted by the knowledge that however she felt about him, it had nothing to do with her loving the southerner. She didn't even seem to like him much these days, not after he'd regressed back to his former self. "If he cared about me, or any of this, he would've stuck around, so no, unless he finds me. Some things are better left in the past, you know?"

Her eyes glazed over at these words, and Jack wondered if she was still talking about Sawyer. Whatever else was buried in her past, she seemed even more reluctant to deal with it. "Is that why you're always running, Kate? So that the past doesn't catch up with you?" he asked, knowing that he'd hit on at least part of the truth when she put her own fork down.

"Don't do this, Jack," she said, fighting back the tears he could see plainly now.

He knew that he should leave it alone, but the realisation that he was about to lose her anyway made him bold, bolder than he'd dared to be in the past. If he drove her away, at least he could say that he deserved it.

"Don't do what?" he pressed, feigning innocence, though he knew full well what she was talking about. She hated it when he forced her to confront her life before the crash, but that just made him more determined. Someone had to. "Do you really wanna go back on the run after everything we've been through? You're a lot of things, Kate, but I never thought you were a coward."

She stood up from her chair, aghast, and for a moment, he was sure that she was going to slap him like she had Sawyer, or at least, storm out of the apartment, but then she collapsed back into her seat, dropping her face into her hands.

"No," she whispered, taking a deep, shuddering breath, the quiver in her voice telling him that she was crying behind them. "But what else can I do? I can't…" She sounded so young and scared, like a child desperate for his approval, making his heart ache for her as she added, "I don't deserve to go to prison, Jack… do I?"

"No," he agreed, smiling at her, in spite of the fact that he still had no idea why the marshal was so determined to bring her in. After knowing her for as long as he had; after loving her, and watching her care for the other survivors, he had to believe that whatever she did, it was justified, at least in her mind. There was no way it couldn't be. "I don't think you do, which is why you can't give up – you have to make the jury see what I see."

"And what _do_ you see, Jack?" she asked with what almost passed for a coy smile, a hint of the old Kate returning as she glanced up at him, waiting for an answer.

Even with her eyes swollen and pink, and her face splotchy from crying, he still thought she was beautiful, inside and out, but rather than give her this, when he'd already given her so much, he said, "I see someone who made a mistake."

She seemed disappointed at first, as if she were hoping for something more tangible, then the ghost of a smile passed over her features. "It's nice that you have that much faith in me, Jack, but I'm not sure a jury will see it that way," she told him, looking pensive as she pressed her cheek to her palm, circling the rim of her glass with her finger.

It had been more than three months since he'd had an opening like this: if he didn't take advantage of it, who knew how much longer he'd have to wait next time? "So why don't you let me be the judge of that?" he asked, his heart pounding in anticipation as he watched her head snap up, trying to gage how serious he was. "Tell me what you did, Kate – the truth."

Her expression was grave as she studied him, and he was sure that she was going to shut down like the last time he'd asked, but she nodded, offering him a watery smile. "Okay, Jack. I guess you could say you've earned it."

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Some of you are gonna tell me that she wouldn't volunteer to tell him the truth yet, but my defence is a. she wanted to tell him from the beginning, he made her second guess that, and b. it's the only way to move the plot and their relationship forward, since they're in the real world, and it does matter! 

Next chapter: Kate's confession and they decide what they're going to do about it (geez I'm getting tired of finding new ways to write this!)... ;)


	8. Chapter 8

I only got two reviews for the last chapter, two reviews out of one hundred and fifty hits. I don't think I have to tell you how disappointed I am...

Come on guys, it's the weekend -- surely you have a few spare moments? Especially since I'm starting to doubt this fic. I have a couple of one shots I'd rather be working on, and a burning desire to write something supernatural. I'm getting bored with drama -- I miss the island! ;)

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Chapter 8. Trust 

"Do you wanna move to the couch or something?" Jack asked, clearing his throat, when Kate continued to hold his gaze, determined now, suddenly nervous of what he might hear, and how it might affect their relationship. He'd waited so long for the truth, believing that it would make everything easier, but what if it wasn't something he could handle? "I have a feeling this isn't going to be a short conversation

"No, here's fine," she assured him, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper as she pushed her plate away. "In fact, it's probably better." She didn't say as much, but he could tell by the way she was avoiding his eyes that she was afraid of the same thing: that he would be repulsed by her once he knew, her and everything she was capable of; that this would cancel out his love for her, and cause him to send her away, out of his life.

He couldn't say for sure that it wouldn't change the way he felt, but so far, he couldn't think of anything she'd done; even sleeping with Sawyer; that had shaken him enough to make him wish that he'd never laid eyes on her, and he doubted that this would either.

"God, this is hard – harder than I thought it would be," she confessed, biting back another round of tears as she tried to find the words to begin, and watching her, Jack couldn't remember seeing her cry as much as she had since leaving the island.

"I know," he told her, taking her hand again, briefly this time, "but you need to relax. I trusted you by bringing you back here, now I need you to do the same thing. Whatever happened, whatever you did, we'll deal with it, but you have to tell me, Kate, please," he repeated, trying not to sound too demanding. They were so close to making a breakthrough: he didn't want to scare her off.

"You're right," she agreed, softly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand once he'd let it go. "I dragged you into all this by coming here – the least I can do is tell you why they're after me."

She took a few moments to compose herself, fixing her eyes on an invisible speck on the carpet, then finally, began to talk, relating the chain of events that led her to board the plane with the marshal. He listened, transfixed, as slowly, the pieces of her life began to fall into place, making sense of words and events he'd long since given up hope of ever understanding: the caves, the plane, that kiss… but when she reached the end, one thing still bothered him.

"This guy, your father, _step_father, Wayne – did he ever…?" he asked her, swallowing hard, unsure of how to continue, or if he even wanted to. He couldn't stand the idea of someone who was supposed to love her touching her like that: while it made her relationship with Sawyer easier for him to understand, it made it harder for him to stomach.

"No," she assured him, shaking her head vehemently, her expression twisting with disgust, and he wondered if she was lying. No matter how much he pressed her, he could never see the Kate he knew admitting to something like that.

Of course there was an equally strong chance that she was telling the truth.

He could see her wanting Wayne dead if he'd crossed that line, especially after learning that he was her biological father – he could see _himself _wanting him dead – but beyond the obvious sense of violation and betrayal, her motivations were harder to identify with. She'd hated him, that much was evident, but why? "So why'd you do it, Kate?"

He was expecting another string of excuses, some justification of why it had to be done that only made sense to her, so he was surprised when she shook her head again, answering softly, and honestly, as far as he could tell, "I don't know. It's like you said – I made a mistake."

It both pleased and pained him to hear her admit it, since it was unlikely to do her much good now that the deed was done. It didn't help that she'd run, either; that just cemented her guilt in the eyes of the law. "I really wish you'd found another way to deal with him," he told her gently, seeing how wretched she was; how much she hated herself; and not wanting her to think that he was judging her when he still couldn't be sure that she was telling him the whole truth, "But then I wouldn't have met you." He smiled at her, and she smiled too, feebly at first, then with something akin to relief.

"So you don't wanna turn me in?" she checked, half as a joke, though he could see that it was something that she'd been stewing on for a while. She seemed surprised that he was taking it so well, and, if he was completely honest, so was he. A year, or even three months, earlier, he wouldn't have been so sympathetic to her plight.

But while he knew that he could never betray her like that, like her mother, her fathers, and even Sawyer, he couldn't help thinking that she'd hit the nail almost on the head. "No," he agreed, turning thoughtful as he added, "But I think you should turn yourself in."

The colour drained from her face, and she grew flustered at these words, not knowing how to rebut them. "Jack, you know I—" she protested, sitting up straighter in her chair in preparation for an argument, but he cut her off.

"I'm not saying you should do it today, or even tomorrow, but it's the only way to get your life back," he told her, and while he knew that she was still coming up with excuses, the defeat in her eyes told him that she'd come to the same conclusion too. She couldn't run forever: sooner or later she was going to get caught, and even if she didn't, it was no way to live.

"I saw the look on your face, Kate, after you found out that test was negative," he said when she wouldn't look at him, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. "Tell me you weren't disappointed – that part of you doesn't want that life."

"I wasn't," she insisted, but her voice was trembling, and she wouldn't look at him, and for once, there was no doubt in his mind that she wasn't being completely honest with him. "I didn't want that, not unless…" he waited for her to finish, but she met his eyes with a guilty look, then quickly glanced away, unwilling to let him in on whatever it was that she was thinking. "It's not important," she finished with a dismissive shake of her head.

"Well, whatever you did want, you can have it," he assured her, ignoring the combined hope and disappointment that rose inside of him as he realised how naïve he must sound, but he needed to believe that she still had a chance, that _they _had a chance, "just as soon as all of this is behind you. You can live in the world again, Kate, but you have to fight for it – you can't keep fighting yourself or the people around you, not if you want things to change."

Especially between us, he added silently, wondering if this was what she'd been hinting at before when she'd almost admitted that it wasn't the baby itself that she'd wanted.

"I've been running for so long, I wouldn't even know where to start," she confessed after a long moment, as if she were hoping that he'd have an answer, he who always seemed to know how to fix things: everything except her.

Fortunately, for once he did. "My friend Marc – the one you met this morning – is a lawyer," he told her, realising how stupid he'd been to throw him out of the apartment in a fit of petty jealousy, when he was probably the only one who could help her; he'd have to grovel to get him back in their corner, but he was willing to swallow his pride if it meant helping Kate.

She glanced up at him dubiously, her thoughts apparently along the same lines, but she seemed to be listening, so he went on, "Provided he's not still pissed at me, why don't we start there?"

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I was going to create an OC for Kate's lawyer, but I decided to use Marc again instead, since I like writing him, and I like the friction between him and Jack over Kate. Maybe he'll even hit on her... ;) 


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the reviews, and the encouragment. I know I should just be happy that I'm getting hits, but those aren't always helpful in terms of providing feedback, so I can't help wondering why people are interested enough to read, but not enough to offer their opinion. Like a lot of authors, I'd rather abuse than indifference because it still means I'm doing something right if people care enough to complain! ;)

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Chapter 9. Return Of The Green-Eyed Monster 

It was late by the time that they finished cleaning up after dinner, so Jack decided to wait until morning to pay Marc a visit. In spite of the fact that they weren't doing much, and the nervous anticipation hanging heavy in the air, Jack found himself enjoying the time spent alone with Kate in the kitchen, talking about nothing in particular. It made him miss being married, the comfort and companionship; even though they weren't together, and probably never would be, already, he could imagine spending the rest of his life with her, doing exactly that.

The illusion was shattered just after midnight when she announced that she was going to bed, slipping into his bedroom and closing the door with an awkward, "Goodnight", forcing him to spend another night on the couch, which, he noted as he spread out his bedding, was still warm from her body heat. He wished fervently that he could go to her, and spend the night with her in his arms; like Sawyer had and taken for granted; but apart from a few subtle hints that he wasn't even sure he'd read right, she hadn't given him any indication that she wanted anything beyond the platonic friendship they were rebuilding. So instead, he was left lying awake again, thinking of her, wondering if she was doing the same.

The bedroom door was still closed when he got up the next morning, so after showering and changing into some fresh clothes he found in the laundry, he wrote her a note and let himself out of the apartment, heading over to his best friend's office. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to him, just that he needed him, more than he wanted to admit.

It was only eight fifteen when he pulled into the parking lot; Marc had just arrived and was manoeuvring a stack of boxes out of the backseat. Jack called out to him, but if he heard, he ignored him, kicking the door shut and continuing on towards the building without looking up.

Striding ahead of him, Jack pushed the door open, holding it for him, and finally, Marc acknowledged him with a grateful smile. "Oh, hey, man," he said, sounding distant and distracted as he pushed past him, into the foyer, and Jack realised that his first guess had been right: his friend was nursing a serious grudge. He couldn't say that he blamed him; his behaviour the day before had been pretty shameful. "Listen, I'm booked pretty solid all week, so your harrowing tale is gonna have to wait."

Clearing his throat, suddenly uncomfortable, Jack blurted out the speech he'd been rehearsing in the car on the way over. "I actually came here to apologise. I acted like an ass yesterday when you were just trying to find out what was going on in my life – there's no excuse for it."

Marc nodded, considering this, and Jack knew that he was forgiven. "So," his friend said finally, palming half of his boxes off on him as he unlocked his office, "You never answered my question – you and Kate, you're not involved?"

Jack wasn't sure how to answer this, because whatever their relationship, he was already emotionally involved with her; after a moment's hesitation, he admitted, hoping that Marc would pick up on the silent warning he was sending him, "No, she's just staying with me for a while, until she gets some things sorted out. That's actually the other reason I came here," he added, shifting uncomfortably, afraid that this would undermine his entire apology.

Marc set the boxes down on his desk, peeling his coat off and throwing it over the back of his chair before turning to smirk at him. "Ohhh, so that's what this is about?" he said, sitting down, more amused than offended, to Jack's relief. "You need me to help you impress the pretty girl you've got living in your apartment."

Jack found himself blushing to hear the situation described this way: was he really that transparent when it came to his feeling for Kate? "I'm not trying to impress her, Marc," he told him, knowing that this was only half true; that he _was_ harbouring a secret hope that by helping Kate, he could prove to her that he was in it for the long haul. "She's just a friend."

Marc flashed him a wicked grin, lifting a stack of files out of the topmost box, and Jack couldn't tell if he believed him or not. "Whatever, man," he said. "Either way, it makes a nice change from high school."

Jack laughed at the memory of the gangly red-haired boy who couldn't get a date to save his life. A lot had changed since then: though perpetually single, Marc no longer seemed to have any trouble attracting women, and the one woman Jack really wanted… "So does this mean you'll help us?" he checked, feeling something like hope for the first time since Kate had confirmed his worst fears by confessing that she was wanted for murder.

Marc grinned, and he began to regret not lying about the true nature of their relationship, or at least, admitting his feelings. "I'll tell you what," he agreed, flipping through the pages of his date book. "Why don't I swing by your apartment tonight, and the two of you can fill me in on what kind of trouble she's in?"

* * *

"Patricide," Marc repeated for what Jack was sure must be the thousandth time, letting out a low whistle, when they were alone in the living room, Kate having gone to stack the dishwasher. "Geez, man – you know you're crazy, right? Getting mixed up in this?" 

"So what does that make you?" Jack pointed out with a grin, causing his friend to let out a nervous chuckle in response.

"Dually noted," he agreed, taking a sip of his beer to calm his nerves, his brow furrowing seriously as he added, "If the cops find out you're housing her, I could be disbarred, and you…"

"They're not gonna find out," Jack assured him, giving him a stern look to remind him of their silent agreement: he had trusted him in coming to him with this. "Not unless someone tells them."

"Don't worry – your secret's safe with me," Marc told him, and Jack knew that he meant it. They'd been friends for almost thirty years: he'd known him longer than anyone, except his parents.

"She's pretty great," Marc said, changing the subject when the silence began to hang thick between them; following his gaze to the kitchen, Jack watched Kate frown with concentration, biting her bottom lip, her dark curls hanging around her face, as she scrubbed at a spot on the counter.

"Yeah," he agreed, admiring her as she moved about, feeling another stab of jealousy when she bent over to close the dishwasher and he caught Marc checking out her ass with an appraising grin.

"Stunning," he said, and while Jack couldn't argue with that, he felt compelled to change the subject, not the least of all because he realised he'd been staring at her too.

"So, what d'you think her chances are?" he asked, clearing his throat, and Marc snapped out of his trance, turning his attention away from Kate, to Jack's relief.

"That depends on the evidence," he explained, switching back to lawyer mode. "So far it all sounds fairly circumstantial – the word of a dead US marshal, an insurance policy that could have been a gift, and her mother's statement to the cops, which loses some of its impact now that we won't be able to cross-examine her in court."

"You mean you think she might walk?" Jack pressed, inhaling sharply, hardly daring to hope. She'd been running for more than three years: surely that was likely to damage their case? "She won't have to do jail time?"

Marc grinned. "It's too early to say that with any certainty," he corrected him, forcing him to read between the lines, "but yeah, unless the prosecution can come up with some new evidence, I wouldn't rule it out."

* * *

Next chapter: I realise that there wasn't a lot of Jate in that chapter, so I'll try to incorporate some Jate fluff into upcoming chapters. ;) 


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for the reviews. Some of you have asked me about Sawyer, so I will say that I do have plans for him to appear again, but not until later in the story. I'm not going to tell you when or how or in what context, though!

I wracked my brains for something Jack and Kate could do together in the apartment that would be both romantic and innocent, and still true to character, until I realised that the writers already suggested it to me..._ then_ I had to find a song that fit, one that wasn't too contemporary or too corny, that captured Jack's feelings, so hopefully this chapter meets your approval. I think it's my favourite so far!

* * *

Chapter 10. Put Your Head On My Shoulder 

The morning after Marc's visit, Jack woke feeling optimistic. It had been four days since their return to L.A., and Kate was still with him, asleep in his bed; not only that, but she wanted to fight, and Marc seemed to think they might win.

Pulling the cover from his piano, he sat down at the keys, enjoying their smoothness under his fingertips after so long. He didn't know what he was playing, or how much time had passed, just that for once in his life, everything seemed to be going right for him, and he wanted to express it.

He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't hear the bedroom door open, or see Kate come out, stopping only when he became aware of her presence behind him. She was leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed, watching him with a soft smile, straightening when she saw that she had his attention.

"Hey. I forgot you were that good."

Jack couldn't help grinning at the compliment now that he was able to enjoy her admiration, fooling around, tapping out the beginnings of another song her benefit. Marc might have been wrong yesterday, but if he were here now, he would be spot on: it was true, Jack _was_ trying to impress her.

"I always wanted to learn – I tried to talk my mom into getting me lessons when I was a kid, but we could never afford it," she continued, coming over to stand beside him, watching his hands over his shoulder. "Do you think you could teach me?"

Her eyes were bright and hopeful, making it easy for him to picture the little girl who never seemed to get a break; scooting over, he made room for her on the stool and she sat down beside him, close enough that their sides were touching. He couldn't tell if it was intentional or not, but she made no move to shift away, glowing with happiness as she waited for him to issue his first instructions.

He was so caught up in looking at her, enjoying the warmth of her hip, her bicep, her shoulder against his, that he almost forgot, clearing his throat when it occurred to him that he should so something.

"We'll just start with some scales," he told her, showing her where to position her right hand when she offered it to him, placing her fingers across each of the keys when she didn't appear to be a quick study. If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn that she was flirting with him, letting her hand go lax in his so that he was almost holding it, encouraging him to lean across her chest, his shoulder rubbing lightly against hers.

"This one's called C major, because we start with C," he explained, trying to shake off the thought, but he found that it wasn't easy to concentrate when his face was only inches from hers, close enough that he could brush her lips with his, and almost pass it off as an accident.

Almost.

He wondered what she would do if he tried.

Murmuring instructions close to her ear, he let his hand rest over hers, applying gentle pressure to each of her fingers to get her to tap the right keys; briefly but boldly stroking her palm with his thumb as they moved away from C to D major.

If she noticed this unnecessary gesture, she didn't let on, focusing her attention on the sequence of notes as they worked their way up the keyboard.

This hands on approach to teaching was a thinly veiled excuse for him to touch her; he was pretty sure that they both knew it, but to his surprise, she didn't resist, looking up at him with a flushed grin when they arrived back at C.

"Can we play something now?" she asked, her voice betraying her eagerness, and he nodded, waiting for her left hand to join her right on the keyboard before slipping an arm around her back.

He was doing the work for both of them, bringing her fingers to glide along with his, so while he played, she leant back into him, almost subconsciously, her head resting against his shoulder. It was such a natural pose, for both of them: Jack almost couldn't believe that it had taken them so long to get there.

"Anyone can play, but to play well, you have to feel the music," he told her. "You have to let is wash over you. Do you feel that?" he asked, and she nodded, but her dreamy smile made it hard for him to tell whether she'd heard him or not or not.

"What is this?" she asked as the music continued to wrap around them like a cocoon. "It's pretty."

He didn't want to admit that as part of feeling the music, his choice was inspired by her, or at least, his feelings for her, so he gave her a coy smile, relieved and disappointed that she didn't recognise the melody. It would make his message clearer. "It's nothing – just a song."

"What song?" she pressed, her interested piqued as she tilted her head to study him, holding their position. "It sounds familiar – why don't you want to tell me, Jack?"

He wasn't going to give the game away, so he just smiled and continued to play, earning him a playful swat when she freed her hand from his.

"I don't see what the big secret is," she complained, swivelling around on the stool to face him, but she was grinning, playing with him, just like old times. "You're a tease, you know that, Jack?" she said with a mock offended pout as she got up, causing his heart to contract at the sudden loss of contact. "You almost had me going there."

He hated that the song had come to an end; if he had his way, he would have kept them in that moment forever so that he could go on touching her, bumping and brushing against her until she realised how much she meant to him, and him to her.

"Oh, I'm the tease?" he asked as she sauntered off towards the kitchen to get something to eat, his voice airy and light, but this time, he wasn't kidding around.

He'd tried, but he couldn't switch his feelings off when he was around her, and he was beginning to suspect that, as much as she wanted to, she couldn't either.

_Put your head on my shoulder  
Hold me in your arms, baby  
Squeeze me oh so tight  
Show me that you love me too_

_Put your lips next to mine, dear  
Won't you kiss me once, baby  
Just a kiss goodnight, maybe  
You and I will fall in love_

_Some people say that love's a game  
A game you just can't win  
If there's a way  
I'll find it someday  
And then this fool will rush in_

_Put your head on my shoulder  
Whisper in my ear, baby  
Words I want to hear, tell me  
Tell me that you love me too_

* * *

Now who here still thinks Kate is indifferent to Jack?! Or pining after Sawyer?! 

Next chapter: Jack contemplates going back to work, and they receive another surprise visit from Marc... ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you all so much for your lovely comments! I was really happy to hear that you were all as excited about chapter 10 as I was. I was worried about the song -- I looked at so many! -- but I think it captured Jack's longing for some acknowledgment that his feelings are returned. ;)

* * *

Chapter 11. Friendly Competition

Over the next few days, Kate continued to lie low in Jack's apartment, to both his surprise and ongoing relief. Part of him was afraid that, with all the time she had to think, she would realise what a dangerous game they were playing and slip off, but on the few occasions that he ventured out to run errands or buy groceries, he returned to find her exactly where he left her. It was as if she were tied to him by an invisible string, incapable of going anywhere without him.

During that time, they continued to cook together, eat together, watch TV together; everything but sleep, though, by the seventh day, Kate had taken to leaving her door open a few inches when she went to bed, and Jack wondered what, if anything, she was trying to tell him. Did she actually want him to test the boundaries by coming in? Or was it just that, after months of sleeping under a tarp on a tropical beach, she found the bedroom too stuffy?

He was beginning to get a crick in his neck from sleeping on the couch; the idea of crawling back into his own bed was tempting, especially if it meant sharing it with her, but things were finally returning to normal between them. He didn't want to do anything to screw it up. After her legal issues were sorted out, if she decided to stay on, they could look into getting a bigger apartment, but for now, he would have to content himself with the fact that she was close.

Even if their relationship wasn't everything he'd hoped for, he loved having her to himself; he was reluctant to slip back into his old, pre-crash routine at the expense of losing all of those hours with her, but on the eighth day, at her insistence, he went to see the new chief of surgery at St. Sebastian's.

When he returned to their building, he felt his stomach clench at the sight of Marc's BMW parked in the visitor's space. He didn't like the idea of Kate being alone with him, so, when the lift wouldn't come fast enough, he took the steps two at a time, arriving, out of breath, in time to hear her laughter ring out into the foyer.

"That didn't take long," she said, sobering up, when he entered the living room to find her sitting on the couch with Marc, her bare feet drawn up beside her, nursing a cup of coffee. "Guess they must've missed you, huh?"

It took him a moment to realise what she meant, and then he muttered, "Probably," too distracted by Marc's body language to give it much thought: the way he was leaving towards her, his arm stretched across the back of the couch, his intentions painfully clear. He was hitting on her. "What's going on here?"

Seeming to realise that his behaviour fell into the category of unethical, Marc flashed him a guilty smile, but Kate looked taken aback at his brusque manner, depositing her empty mug onto the coffee table and dropping her feet to the floor as she straightened, serious now. "We were waiting for you to get back."

She unfurrowed her brow, an amused smile lighting up her features, and she couldn't seem to resist teasing him. "Marc was just telling me the story of how you guys met. You always had to be the hero, didn't you?" she said affectionately, and he let out a modest laugh, deciding, by her earnest look, that it really had been that innocent, for her, at least.

Marc seemed disappointed that he'd interrupted them as he adjusted his own posture, collecting the notes he'd abandoned on the table when Jack stripped off his coat, flopping into the armchair across from them. He felt ridiculous, acting so territorial this far out of high school, but he'd worked too hard to earn Kate's trust to let his best friend swoop in and seduce her, especially after the way Sawyer had treated her.

To Marc, she was just another pretty girl. To Jack, she was Kate.

Not that it appeared to be working, he noted with a wry smile, watching her shift further into the corner of the couch to give Marc room to spread out. She seemed more or less oblivious to his designs on her, that or she was pretending to be. It was hard to tell.

"I did some digging," Marc said, clearing his throat when it became apparent that he wasn't going to get any further with her this visit, "and it's like I thought – the prosecution's case against you seems to be built almost solely on your mother's statement. No one saw you go into that house, and if they did, it still doesn't prove anything, and because of the extent of the damage from the explosion, the police haven't been able to recover any forensic evidence."

He consulted one of the files on his lap, which on closer inspection, appeared to be a police report. Jack made a mental note to ask him how he'd obtained it; he couldn't believe that it was legal, not when Marc wasn't even officially handling her case. "All they know is that there was a 'high concentration of butane gas in the interior'," his friend read, "'which, ignited by a fire originating in the master bedroom, sparked the fatal explosion."

Jack swallowed hard at this clinical description of Wayne's death, hating the reminder of what Kate had done, but then, he reasoned, it wasn't any more brutal than some of the things they'd been forced into on the island. It was, after all, his idea to blow the Others up when they came to attack their camp.

Glancing up from the report, Marc offered Kate an encouraging smile, putting a hand on her knee. Tensing, Jack couldn't take his eyes off of it, but before he could react, she shifted her legs, hugging them against her chest. "If I was gonna argue that in court," Marc said, managing to retain his composure in spite of this subtle rejection, "I'd say your pal Wayne got wasted, forgot he left the gas on, and blew himself up when he lit his last cigarette of the day."

"You really think it's gonna be that easy?" Jack asked him, afraid that his friend was building their hopes, only for the judicial system to crush them again by sending Kate to jail, but Marc really seemed to believe that it was.

"Give me a few more days to check it all out, make sure there're no nasty surprises waiting to bite us in the ass, but the way things're going, this might not even make it to court." He turned back to Kate with an impish grin. "Coupla weeks, and you could be a free woman – when that happens, you have to promise you'll let me take you out to dinner to celebrate."

It sounded like a date; Jack was afraid that she was going to agree, possibly not even realising this, but she flashed him a wary smile in response, deflecting the invitation with a noncommittal, "You haven't gotten me off yet," to Jack's relief.

Seeming to take this as encouragement, or at least, a sign to keep trying, Marc grinned and stood up, gathering his papers. "Well, it's been a pleasure talking to you, Kate, and Jack, I'll call you," he said with a brief nod to them both. "Enjoy the rest of your evening," and with that, he let himself out of the apartment, looking quite pleased with himself.

"He seems… nice," Kate said when he was gone, her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment at their encounter, and Jack had to fight the urge to laugh.

"Yeah," he agreed, getting up, and taking over his friend's spot on the couch. "He is."

* * *

Next chapter: Okay, I've nudged the plot forward, so more fluffy Jateness... ;) 


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks for the reviews. It wasn't easy to come up with something to top the piano lesson, but I realised that it's almost Christmas in their time line, so I decided to build today's (ridiculously long) fluffy bonding chapter around that.

As for Sawyer (Skip this if you don't want it spoiled!), he will be coming back, but not until the end, and boy will he be sorry he did! ;)

* * *

Chapter 12. Blame It On The Mistletoe 

After witnessing Kate's expert handling of Marc, Jack felt reassured enough to leave her again the following afternoon, returning from negotiations with the chief to find her tearing the kitchen apart.

After calling her name several times on first entering the apartment, he followed her voice to discover her sitting on the tiles amid stacks of plates, saucepans and appliances, looking sheepish at the mess she was making.

"Kate…? What're you doing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her, amused by her inexplicable behaviour, though in the back of his mind, he couldn't help worrying that there was something seriously wrong.

She blushed, hurriedly shoving things back into the cabinets, and he decided that she was okay, just restless. "I don't know," she confessed when he crouched down to help her, dusting off the back of her jeans and standing as soon everything was off the floor. "Looking for something to do, I guess. I'm sick of daytime TV, and those medical journals are a little dry…"

She looked at him sadly as she drifted after him to the living room, and he felt his heart go out to her as she added, "I hate being cooped up here, Jack."

It was over a week since she'd left the apartment; he could see how her confinement must be driving her to distraction. "It's not gonna be forever, Kate," he reminded her, squeezing her bicep gently, hating to be the one keeping her there; he felt like he was clipping her wings, forcing her to stay with him out of his own selfish desire to be with her. "Just until we get the word from Marc."

Her whole face fell, awash with hopelessness, at these words, her eyes pleading him as she said, almost too softly for him to hear, "Let's just go somewhere… please, Jack? Anywhere."

He should have said no outright and found a way to distract her, but when he hesitated, she continued, "It's been days since I've heard anything about the rescue on the news – everyone seems to've forgotten about it."

His mind screamed that it was a bad idea, one that could ruin everything, for both of them, if they got caught, but he hated seeing her spirit so broken, knowing that he could do something to make her smile again. "It'll be dark in a couple of hours," he told her, against his better judgement, praying he that he wouldn't live to regret those words. "I'll take you out then."

* * *

They cooked dinner together as usual, but Kate barely touched hers, fidgeting in her seat, checking the clock on the microwave every few minutes, until it was late enough for Jack to consider it safe. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked as he locked up the apartment and led her down to his car, half hoping that she would back out, but she just grinned and slid into the passenger seat, making it clear to him that she wasn't going to change her mind.

His plan was to take her to a movie, where the risk of someone recognising her would be minimal, but she didn't seem prepared to trade one darkened room for another. "Let's go for a walk," she said when he parked his car in downtown L.A., starting off down the boulevard before he could voice his protest.

In all the excitement of the rescue, and Kate's legal problems, Jack had forgotten that Christmas was just days away, but he remembered it now as he wandered along beside her, taking in the storefront displays.

"You never had anything like this back in Iowa?" he asked her, enjoying her childlike enthusiasm as they moved from one window to the next, her enchanted smile illuminated by the red, green and gold lights. She seemed so happy to be outside again, living her life; as stupid as he knew it had been, he was glad that he'd agreed.

"No," she admitted, stopping to watch a cluster of mechanical elves load Santa's sleigh. "Just the usual stuff – trees, tinsel, department store Santas… Nothing fancy."

"We could go in if you want," he suggested, figuring that he should probably kill two birds with one stone and pick up something for his mother. "I bet there's more inside," but she shook her head.

"Maybe next year," she told him with a weak smile, studying the crowd of late night shoppers flooding in and out, warily. "When I'm free."

He couldn't tell if she meant anything by this, or even if she really believed that she'd still be around, so he let it go, his hand drifting to the small of her back as he ushered her along.

"You know what we should do?" she said after a while, the light returning to her eyes as she turned to face him. "We should get a tree."

It was unlikely that anything would happen with her case until the New Year; deciding that it would make the long hours she was stuck in the apartment over Christmas more bearable, he agreed, but when he offered to take her to the lot they'd seen a few yards back, she shook her head.

"You mean chop one down?" he asked sceptically, wondering where she thought she was going to find one in inner city L.A., or the state of California, for that matter. It wasn't exactly known for its pine trees.

"You never did that?" she said, looking surprised, and he had to marvel at how different their childhoods must have been: her a country girl from a working class family, him the son of a renowned city surgeon. Everything he'd had growing up was store bought, even Christmas.

"No, I never did that," he agreed.

"Well I used to do it with my dad every year he was home," she explained, grinning at the memory, but he could see the sadness in her eyes, the sadness that appeared whenever she mentioned her father. "My mom would never let him have me for Christmas, so a couple of weeks before, he'd drive me out into the middle of nowhere and let me pick one, and then he'd cut it down for me, and we'd decorate it together."

"You miss him, don't you?" he said, more as a statement of fact than a question, because the way she talked about him, he could tell that they'd been close. He sometimes wondered if she felt more betrayed by him than anyone, because he'd lied to her about being blood related. She didn't seem to realise how much he must have loved her to take her out year after year knowing what he did.

"Yeah," she agreed, tearing up, seemingly ashamed that he'd read her so well, "but that's not the point. The point is, it's no good if someone else does it for you."

In spite of her nostalgia, he still wasn't convinced that it was a good idea, or legal, for that matter, not to mention the fact that he didn't want to be out with her that long. "I don't know, Kate," he said, trying to shut out her disappointed look, "This is L.A. – unless you want a palm tree, we'd have to drive pretty far out. I think most of the ones here're imported."

Her frown shifted into an impish grin, and he could tell that she wasn't going to give up that easily when she pressed, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "You got anything better to do?"

* * *

After making their way back to his car, they drove north towards Oregon, stopping only to pick up coffee, and an axe, along with some rope to strap their prize to the roof. As the moon sunk towards the horizon, heralding the approach of morning, Jack couldn't believe that he was crazy enough to go along with her scheme, but he couldn't bring himself to admit that he was too chicken, or worse, to disappoint her. In the not too distant past, he was willing to give his life so that she could be with the man he was sure she loved: what was one lousy Christmas tree? 

Especially when it meant that he got to spend time with her, talking and listening to the cheesy Christmas CD she'd talking him into buying at the gas station.

The drive hardly seemed worth it when they returned with the raggiest, most undernourished pine tree he'd ever laid eyes on; half the size of the ones he could have bought her at home; but she was happier than he'd seen her in days, and that made it hard for him to complain.

The sun was almost up by the time he manoeuvred back into their space beneath the building, but they were both too hopped up on caffeine and adrenaline to sleep, so while Kate found a bottle of wine in the refrigerator, he dug a box of old Christmas decorations out of the storage closet.

"I haven't stayed out all night like that since college," he confessed as she poured them each a glass, then, setting hers on the coffee table, proceeded to inspect the contents of the box. "Not unless you count the island… or work."

"I don't," she agreed, fixing him with a mock disapproving look as separated the decorations she liked from the ones she didn't, goading him as she added, "It's a good thing you keep me around, Jack, or else you'd never have any fun."

"I have fun," he complained, feigning offence, as he put his own drink down and slid off the couch to help her, but she just gave him a dubious look and dissolved into laughter.

"Where did you get these?" she asked when she sobered up, turning a glass bauble over in her hands before sliding it onto one of the lower branches. "Most of the decorations I had growing up were ones I made in school."

He couldn't really remember exactly, so he shrugged, figuring that Sarah must have bought them when they were together. "You can have them if you want," he told her, half for something to say, and half because he would have given her anything he knew would make her as happy as he'd seen her that night.

She studied a little wooden cherub before threading it delicately onto the tree. "What would I even do with something like that?" she asked him, a shadow passing over her features, and he realised that it wasn't a rhetorical question when she finished, "I don't even have a storage closet to put them in."

She looked so small and lost as she reached back into the box, avoiding his eyes; shifting closer to her, he touched her arm gently, wanting, more than anything in the world, to give her the home that she longed for. "Things are going to get better for you, Kate, you'll see."

She was silent; she didn't appear to be listening, looking up from the box with an expression that he couldn't place.

"What?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious at having her full attention on him.

"Mistletoe," she said, that one word packed with hidden meaning as she stretched out her palm to show him what she'd just found.

Sure enough, it was.

She didn't seem to care that they weren't under it, licking her lips subconsciously as their eyes locked, each waiting to see what the other would do.

Jack thought about pecking her on the check, but if ever there was a clear sign, this was it. Bringing his hand up to her jaw, he leant in, tentatively caressing her lips with his own. Closing his eyes as she responded by kissing back, he revelled in the taste, the smell, the feeling of being able to touch her like that again after so long, until her mouth grew more urgent, reminding him of that day in the jungle, and all the trouble it had caused.

Before the kiss became something more, something that they wouldn't be able to blame on the mistletoe, he broke it, clearing his throat. "Merry Christmas, Kate," he whispered hoarsely before he pulled back completely, and she smiled, a watery, unconvincing smile, as he tried not to notice the disappointment he knew echoed his own.

* * *

Ha! I bet you thought she was gonna get arrested! (I think you'll agree this was better!) I've never been to California, so I apologise if there are no pine trees whatsoever, even scrawny ones, but I figured there must be a few if we have them here in Australia, right under the hole in the ozone layer! 

Next chapter: More Marc, and he Jack have a serious conversation about Kate. ;)


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for the reviews. I apologise to anyone who tried to access chapter 13 earlier -- that was another accident. I found some words missing in chapter 12, and when I went to replace it, I accidently posted it as a separate chapter, which is why I took it straight down!

Yes, I know mistletoe is a cliche, but it's a good one, especially since it allowed them to give in to their feelings for a moment without consequences... ;)

* * *

Chapter 13. So… 

"Man, that is one sad-looking tree," were the first words out of Marc's mouth when Jack let him into the apartment on Christmas Day. "They run out at the lot?"

Jack glanced over at Kate, stifling a laugh as her forehead furrowed into a deep frown; knowing how attached she was to that ridiculous shrub, which only seemed to get more ridiculous after they'd dressed it up, he couldn't resist ribbing her about it. "You can blame Kate for that – she was the one who wanted to get our own," he said for her benefit, flashing her a superior, I-told-you-so smirk, wincing when she promptly whacked him in the shoulder.

"You can laugh, Jack, but at least there's a story behind it, _and_," it was her turn to smirk, knowing that she had a point, "it saved you at least a hundred bucks."

"I hate to break it to you, Kate," he counted as she rubbed his dead arm, enjoying the verbal copulation, to use their late friend's words, "but I probably spent that much on gas."

She didn't have a comeback for that, glowering at him; still standing in front of them, Marc watched this exchange without comment, and Jack wondered what he was thinking, since he didn't make any move to sit next to Kate at lunch, or engage her in private conversation. Instead, each time Jack turned to say something to her, he could feel his best friend's eyes on them, scrutinising their behaviour. It was as if he knew that something had changed between them, or at least, suspected it.

They hadn't talked about the kiss since the night that it happened, but unlike last time, on the island, they weren't avoiding it either: it was there, hanging in the air between them, colouring their interactions, like an unspoken acknowledgment of the feelings circumstances forced them to keep locked inside. Part of Jack wanted to confront her about it, to convince her to tell him what it meant to her, but with her future still so uncertain, he knew that his chances of getting a straight answer weren't good.

In spite of her smile, and her good-natured teasing, Jack knew that she was sad, that the holidays were hard for her, especially without her dad; seeing her mournful look as she stared at the Christmas tree, understanding that it was him she was thinking of, he vowed to suggest that she call him after lunch, while he and Marc took care of the clean up.

"I doubt I'll even get through," she said when he offered her the cordless phone, not seeming to want to break their long years of silence. "Everyone in the country'll be calling their dads."

"So keep trying," he told her, pressing it into her palm, and closing her fingers firmly around it, knowing that it was something that she had to do. He wasn't sure who she was trying to punish by refusing to reopen communication between them, her father, or herself.

"Okay," she agreed when he continued to stare her down, waiting for her to take his advice, flashing him a weak, nervous smile before disappearing into the bedroom, the door closing softly behind her.

Marc waited until she was out of sight to amble into the kitchen, parking himself on the counter while Jack filled the sink. "So," he began in a conversational tone, as if he were just discussing the weather, "how long've you been in love with Kate?"

At first, Jack wasn't sure that he'd heard him right, then the words hit home and he paused, eyeing his best friend incredulously. "What?"

Marc grinned to show that there were no hard feelings, on his side, at least, sliding off the counter and retrieving a dishcloth. "Come on, man – I've seen the way you look at her, the way you're always touching her, even when you don't need to. She's marked territory. Why didn't you just tell me that when I asked?" he finished, looking embarrassed at his recent behaviour, and trying to cover it as he took a plate out of the drying rack. "If I had any idea you were so into her, I never would've considered flirting with her like I have been – not that she notices…"

It was too much for Jack to process at once, so he decided to start with the obvious. "What I told you was true – we are just friends, even if you're right, I do want more," he confessed. "And I didn't mention my feelings for her because I didn't think you were gonna ask her out," he added, slightly accusing, still not comfortable with the idea that Marc found Kate attractive, even if he could understand why. She _was_ special: he couldn't blame him for noticing what he already had.

"You can relax, man," Marc assured him, stopping to meet his eyes with a serious look. "She's not gonna go out with me – I knew that the day I asked her."

That got Jack's attention; he pulled his hands out of the sink, wiping them on a second dishcloth as leaned against the cabinets to face his friend. "How?"

"How do I know?" Marc repeated, his tone mildly incredulous, as if the answer to this should be obvious to everyone, including Jack. "Because she's already head over heels for some other guy."

For one gut-wrenching moment, Jack was afraid that he was referring to Sawyer, picking up on some remnants of feelings that he himself had been too close to Kate to notice, until he added, teasing, "I think you might know him – tall, crew cut, spinal surgeon… goes by the name Jack Shephard."

Jack's heart almost stopped at these words, and he realised that he was holding his breath, letting it out slowly as he asked, "You really think she feels that way about me?" He could see her caring for him, deeply, even; he'd done nothing but support her since she'd arrived in L.A.; but love…? It was almost too much to hope after waiting for her for so long.

Especially since, if he was interpreting his friend's words right, those feelings weren't new.

"I know she does," Marc agreed, looking amused at what a sap he'd turned into over Kate. He couldn't remember being this strung out over a girl since high school. "That slap when I came in? Tell me that wasn't just an excuse to touch you. It's nothing but excuses with the two of you." He laughed. "Just get a room already – you know you want to."

Jack felt like he needed to sit down, to think about what his friend was saying, so, leaving the dishes, he headed out into the living room, settling on the couch with his head in his hands. Marc followed.

"I kissed her, the other day," he admitted, and Marc raised his eyebrows, until he added, embarrassed that this manoeuvre hadn't been as bold as it sounded, "there was mistletoe involved."

Marc frowned, disappointed, punching him in the same place that Kate had. (What was it with people hitting him today? Were they trying to tell him something?) "You're tragic, you know that, man? Just _tell_ her."

"I already did," he explained, thinking back to that day on the island. She hadn't been available then, and she'd had the added burden of a possible child to consider: maybe that was the coward's way out compared to now, when it could actually lead to something.

"So tell her again," Marc insisted, and Jack knew that he was right: he had to keep trying. "She can't hold out forever – no one's that cold."

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Next chapter(s): Over the next few chapters, I'm going to remove the final obstacle by clearing up Kate's legal issues, starting with her agreeing to turn herself in ;) 


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks for the reviews. I know, Marc, not very exciting. Not as exciting as Jate, at any rate, which is why I've been alternating.

For those of you who are worried: No, Jack will not have to wait for Kate to go to jail to find out how she feels, in fact, I just finished writing chapter 15, and let's just say there are two things in there that I know you've been waiting for, so if you're all very good and review I'll put it up ASAP. As I said, it's written, so it might even be today! ;)

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Chapter 14. Que Sera Sera

After concluding his pep talk, Marc let himself out, leaving Jack to mull over what he'd said. His friend was right about one thing: something had to happen, soon, or else he was going to go out of his mind waiting.

It was another hour before Kate emerged from the bedroom, eyes swollen, cheeks tear-stained, but she was smiling, and Jack took that as a good sign. "How'd it go with your dad?" he asked her when she sank down onto the couch beside him, hugging a throw pillow to her chest.

"Okay," she agreed, her eyes filling up again, her tears threatening to spill over as she added, "He cried when he heard my voice – except for the day I told him I knew about Wayne, he's never even come close to doing that in front of me."

"We've been back two weeks, and today was the first time he heard from you – he must have thought you were dead," Jack reminded her gently, glad that he hadn't let her back out of making that call.

"If I didn't break his heart before that…" she began, choking up, and Jack reached out to touch her wrist, suddenly self-conscious. It was true: he was always finding reasons to make contact with her.

She didn't seem to mind, though, letting his hand linger against her skin as she took a deep breath to compose herself, wiping her eyes with the back of her palm. "Where's Marc?" she asked in a clear change of subject, glancing around the apartment as if she thought he might still be lurking there somewhere.

"He went to have dinner with his parents," Jack explained, which was half true; he didn't want to rush things by admitting that his friend had left to give them time alone.

"Oh. That makes sense," she agreed, letting the conversation die out, her eyes falling on the unfinished dishes, but before she could get up to wash them, Jack pulled her back down.

"We need to talk," he said seriously, figuring that this was as good a lead in as any, and, as expected, she fixed him with that deer under the headlights look, as if she already knew that the issue he wanted to address was one she would rather keep avoiding.

"All right," she agreed slowly, and he could almost see the gears turning inside her head as she tried to think of a way out of this discussion. "What is it?"

He was so used to her evasion tactics by now that he managed to escape offence, pushing ahead with what he had to say in spite of her hesitance. "We need to talk about what we're doing here," he continued, and her shoulders slumped with resignation. She did know. "We can't keep playing house, not dealing with the fact that sooner or later you're gonna have to decide whether or not you wanna stop running."

He was so prepared for her to argue with him that his brain almost didn't register it when she said, softly, "I know," sinking down further into her seat.

It took him a moment to process her words, and then, recovering himself, he pressed, "And?" determined to hear the rest.

"I do. Want to," she finished, lifting her eyes from the carpet to meet his with a meaningful look, expressing all of the things still left unsaid between them. "I want that life, just like you said… I just didn't want it with Sawyer."

As she continued to hold his gaze, Jack felt a little shiver of anticipation run through him, wondering if she meant that she wanted it with him instead. It was beyond anything he could have dreamed of, or hoped for. "So I guess the question is," he said, slowly, matching her tone, "what're you gonna do about it?"

She broke eye contact with him, her expression grave as she fidgeted with her hands. "I've been thinking about that," she confessed, "and I think I need to go back to Iowa, like I should have years ago."

She didn't seem to want to finish the thought, but he didn't need her to spell it out for him to understand: she was going to turn herself in. He knew that he should have been happy, or at least, proud of her, but in spite of the weeks he'd spent preparing her for this decision, it didn't fill him with the satisfaction he'd once thought it would.

"When're you planning on leaving?" he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Soon," she agreed, and his heart sank. "Once the holidays are over."

He hated the idea that if things didn't go according to plan, he had a week with her at most, so he said, praying that she wouldn't turn him down, "Can I drive you?"

"It's a long way, Jack," she argued, looking wary at the idea of accepting yet another favour from him, even if he was only too willing to do it, "almost on the other side of the country."

That just made it all the better for him, but she didn't seem to see it. "Last time I checked, you didn't have a car," he reminded her, "and it's not like you can go out and rent one." Deciding to try another tactic, he softened, echoing her words from the night that they'd kissed. "Besides, what have I got better to do?"

The ghost of a smile passed over her features, and she nodded. "Okay, if you really want to do this."

"I need to," he agreed, his heart aching a little at the thought of delivering her into the hands of the police. Part of him wanted to call the whole thing off, in case Marc was wrong, but he knew that if he did, they'd never be together. She'd be running for the rest of her life, and he'd spend the rest of his waiting for her, wondering what could have been.

"Kate," he said, clearing his throat, when the conversation tapered off into silence, emboldened by the realisation that he might never get another chance, but, seeming to anticipate his words, she shook her head vehemently, refusing to let him finish.

"I know what you're gonna say, Jack, and don't, please," she whispered, ducking her head, wiping furiously at her eyes as the tears flowed. "I don't wanna hurt you, and I will if I… if we…" She trailed off, shaking her head again, everything about her pleading with him not to go there. "Let's just enjoy the time we have, even if it's not everything you're hoping for. It's better that way, for both of us."

She didn't say it, but he could tell, from the way her voice shook, that she was laying down these ground rules as much to protect herself as to protect him. And while he hated to admit it; wished he could dismiss her words; he knew that what she was saying made sense. It would be stupid for him to start something with her now, when the possibility of losing her was still so real: if he had her, even for a few days, he didn't think he could let her go when the time came.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said, reaching over to clasp his hand when he couldn't bring himself to look at her, his heart already ravaged by the same pain and disappointment that she was trying to save him from. "I wish I could tell you want you wanna hear, but que sera, sera, right? We'll see."

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Next chapter: Jack takes Kate home to Iowa... ;) 


	15. Chapter 15

Thanks for the reviews. I was gonna put in a note about what "Que sera sera" means, but I figured most of you would already know: for those who don't, it's from that song of the same name. It means, "Whatever will be, will be". So basically Kate was telling Jack that it's out of their hands now. ;)

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Chapter 15. Iowa 

As hard as he tried to take Kate's words to heart, and enjoy the days that they had left together, Jack couldn't look at her after that without feeling a little piece of him break. There was a part of him that resented her, for making him fall in love with her, then punishing him for it by keeping him at arm's length, but in his more rational mind he knew that it wasn't really her fault. She hadn't wanted this any more than he had, maybe less, since she was the one who couldn't afford emotional attachments.

He pushed back the date of his return to work, and they spent the rest of the week in much the same way that they always had, but there was a dark cloud hanging over everything that they did. He could hear her crying at night, even with the door shut, and he wanted to go to her, to hold her until she stopped, but she'd made the boundaries clear, and he knew that it would only make things worse if he didn't respect them.

On the day that they were due to leave for Iowa, right after New Years, he came back from filling up the car to find her perched on the edge of the bathtub, her despondent look setting him on edge.

"Is everything okay, Kate?" he asked her, and she nodded, taking a deep breath before explaining, "I took another pregnancy test while you were out, just to be sure. You said they're not always right in the beginning."

He could feel himself tensing at her words, half afraid that she was going to tell him it was positive this time, and half hoping for the same thing. If she were pregnant, it would give them a reason to stay in L.A., but as she held it out to him, he saw that fate had other plans.

"It's okay, it was," she told him, scrubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I guess I was just looking for an excuse not to do this."

"It's gonna be all right, Kate," he told her, sitting down beside her, wrapping his arm around her in spite of everything she'd said, and to his surprise, she melted into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Marc's gonna meet us there in a couple of days, and we're gonna get through this. I never lie, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," she agreed, sniffling, and they both smiled at the shared memory of the night they'd blown open the Hatch. He wasn't lying about the glass being half full then, and he wasn't now. He believed it: what other choice did he have?

They had a backpack each, as well some food, and clothes he'd helped Kate pick out for the hearing; he loaded it all into the trunk, and after calling Marc to finalise the arrangements, they set off along the interstate, towards Nevada.

"You wanna stop off in at Vegas? I think I've got a couple of thousand bucks I could afford to lose," he said, mostly to make her laugh, when they reached the turn off, but she shook her head, staring morosely at the miles of desert outside her window as she answered, "Maybe some other time."

He knew today wasn't the day to be making promises that he might not be able to keep, but he wanted to cheer her up, to give her something to look forward to, so he said, "I'll hold you to that. Maybe we'll go to celebrate your freedom," and she managed a weak smile.

"I'd like that."

They drove on until they reached Denver, then stopped for the night at a roadside motel, Jack wishing that he'd had the presence of mind to take the journey at a slower pace. They were almost halfway there, and there was still so much he wanted to say to her, so much that he still felt he needed to express.

He wasn't prepared to let her out of his site yet, not while he still had a choice, so he booked a room with separate beds where he could at least watch over her, listening to the deep, rhythmic sound of her breathing while she slept. She looked so peaceful and sweet and unlike the criminal she was about to become, curled up on her side, clutching her pillow for comfort, that, bending down to brush the hair out of her face, he couldn't resist pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She stirred when his lips brushed her skin, but didn't wake, smiling and mumbling something that he didn't quite catch, and wasn't sure that he wanted to.

He didn't want to love her, to be in love with her, but somehow, he just couldn't stop.

Exhausted from the long hours of travelling, they slept in the next morning, dividing the remaining distance over two days. On the first, they made their way through Nebraska, stopping at a small town an hour west of the border.

The following afternoon, they would reach Des Moines: he knew that Kate must be afraid, because that night, after hours of tossing and turning in her own bed, she crawled into his, drifting back to sleep with her head against his chest.

She seemed to think that he was asleep; he wasn't sure that she would have had the gall to do it otherwise; so he didn't let on to her that he wasn't, lying still while he waited for her to get settled. She was dressed and sitting on the foot of her own bed when he woke again, drinking coffee while she flipped through the channels, so he decided not to bring it up, in case it embarrassed her, and she didn't mention it either.

They took the last leg of the trip at a snail's pace, passing through her hometown of Cedar Rapids so that she could point out her childhood haunts… minus her parents' house, of course. She didn't want to stop, though, in case someone recognised her, tucking her hair up into an old baseball cap and sliding down low in her seat.

Once they reached the capital, it took them half an hour to find the police station, not long enough, Jack decided as he parked against the curb outside.

"I guess this is my stop," she said, peeling the hat off, and tossing it into the backseat as she shook her curls out, reminding him of a girl in a shampoo commercial.

She was so beautiful, he almost couldn't bear to look at her, remembering how it felt to have her body pressed against his the night before. She wasn't even gone yet, and already, he missed her. "I guess it is," he agreed, without enthusiasm.

She reached for the handle, then hesitated, pursing her lips and swallowing as she stared down at her feet. "I knew what you were playing that day," she said after a long moment, and it took him a moment to realise what she was saying.

"I only pretended not to," she continued after a beat, glancing up at him to see if his eyes were on her, and he felt himself blush a little.

"It was just a song, Kate – it didn't mean anything," he assured her, hoping to avoid the humiliation of another rejection, but she wasn't fooled, and neither, was he.

"You wanted to know how I felt, and I couldn't tell you, because I was scared of what might happen," she confessed, her voice breaking slightly, and he wasn't sure if she was still talking about the song, or Christmas, or both. Not that it mattered.

"But you want to tell me now?" he prompted when she swallowed hard, too overcome to speak, wondering if the moment that they were supposed to be saying goodbye was the best time to get into it, especially when the conversation was upsetting her so much.

"In case I go to jail," she agreed, losing her composure, and he felt his own throat begin to close up. "I just wanted to tell you that I… I love you," she managed to choke out, closing her eyes against the tears coursing down her cheeks, the words coming out barely above a whisper. "I have for so long, I don't even remember when it started, but I think I knew it the day you asked me to leave you behind. I felt like a part of me was being ripped out when you turned off that walkie talkie…"

She was crying too hard to go on; he reached across the console to comfort her, but before he could make contact, she forced her way out of the car, slamming the door as she stumbled blindly up the path, towards the station.

Pounding the steering wheel with his palm, his own eyes prickling with tears, he watched her go, his heart breaking a little more with every step away from him she took. Feeling sick to his stomach, he was about to leave before he had to see her in handcuffs again, forced to her knees and degraded like some low life thug, but halfway there, she turned, sprinting back to the car.

He barely had time to roll his window down before she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the fervour of that day in the jungle, and then some, until his lungs screamed for air, and he had to let her go.

"I love you," she whispered again, against his lips as they reclaimed their breaths, and then, she was gone.

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I had Jack take Kate to the capital rather than the town where she comitted the crime because I figure that, since it's murder, not a civil dispute or petty offence, she'd probably end up there for her hearing anyway. This way saves time! 

Next chapter: Marc arrives while Jack frets, and Kate gets released on bail. (Don't worry, I don't intend to go into too much detail with the legal stuff, or have it stretch over too many chapters!) ;)


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks for the reviews. I was really excited about that chapter, so I'm glad you were too! I know some of you still want closure on the whole Sawyer issue, so here it is, another one of the many explanations as to why Kate slept with Sawyer the first time... ;)

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Chapter 16. When I'm Free 

The hours that followed Kate's surrender were the worst of Jack's life, as he waited for news. Marc arrived shortly after, stopping by his motel briefly room to see how he was holding up, before heading over to the police station to supervise her questioning, leaving him alone with too much time to think.

Kate loved him. It should have made him happy, but it didn't. It was easier before, back when he was convinced that he didn't have a chance with her, when she couldn't break his heart any more than she already had.

It was late by the time he received a phone call from Marc telling him that they were releasing her on bail, until the hearing, which was due to take place later in the week. The amount was set at a quarter of a million dollars; more than the cost of his apartment; but he paid it without hesitation, waiting impatiently for them to bring her out.

He hated seeing her manhandled: it reminded him too much of the Others; all she needed was a cloth bag over her head. There were tear tracks on her cheeks, and her eyes were pink and swollen from crying as she broke free of the guard, and, taking the last few steps at a run, hurtled into his arms, hugging him so tightly that he was afraid she was going to crack his ribs.

"Are they treating you okay?" he asked her, stroking her hair as she sobbed into his chest, and she nodded, composing herself enough to lift her head and reward him with a weak smile.

"Yeah. Marc's doing his job. He's a good lawyer."

Turning to see his friend standing off to one side, hands in his suit pockets, looking uncomfortable, Jack gave him a grateful smile, his arms still tight around Kate's waist. "I don't think I can thank you enough for helping us, man."

"That's okay," Marc agreed with an impish grin, taking in the intimate way they were holding each other. "You can thank me by naming your firstborn son after me."

Glancing over at Kate, Jack saw her blush furiously under the harsh fluorescent lights. "That's assuming I actually go free," she pointed out with a wry smile, avoiding Jack's eyes as she released him.

"There's every chance you're gonna walk away from this, Kate," Marc told her gently, reassuringly, and probably not for the first time. It made Jack feel a little left out to know that he'd been there for her through all those hours of uncertainty, comforting her, the way he wished he himself had been able to. "The evidence they have against you is mostly inadmissible."

Kate nodded, swallowing as she tried to force a smile; Jack found her hand and squeezed it.

"Now, I assume the two of you are gonna want some alone time," Marc continued with a knowing grin, picking up his briefcase, "so I'm gonna go home to take care of some other clients, but I'll be back in time for the hearing – Scout's Honour."

He shook Kate's hand, "Call me if you need anything," then gave Jack a one-armed hug. "And you, I wanna hear all about it when you get time," he told him with a meaningful look, grinning at both of them before signing some papers and leaving the station.

"We obviously can't skip town," Jack said to break the awkward silence once he was gone, still holding Kate's hand as they followed him out into the daylight, "but is there anything you wanna do now that you don't have to worry about being seen out in public?"

She rubbed her eyes tiredly with her free hand, leaning into his arm. "It's been a long day. I actually wouldn't mind going back to the motel – if that's okay with you," she added hastily, looking up at him with a slightly guilty expression at turning him down.

There was nothing suggestive about her tone: she really wanted to rest. "Sure," he agreed, happy just to have her with him again, slipping his arm back around her as he led her to the car.

He didn't know if she'd eaten, so while she took a shower to rid herself of the watch house, he ordered take out, and they ate together on the bed in silence, neither one knowing how to bring up the subject of what happened between them in the car.

"Did you mean it?" he asked when he couldn't stand the tension anymore, watching her poke at a piece of chicken with her chopsticks, head bowed, damp hair hanging around her face like a curtain, hiding her expression.

"Yes," she agreed, still not looking at him.

Setting his own chopsticks down, he took a moment to process this, then said, finding it hard to put it into words, afraid of the answer he might receive, "I get why you waited so long to tell me, but why Sawyer? Why sleep with him if you loved me? Or did you love him too?" the last part coming out more harshly than he intended it to.

"_No_," she said sharply, finally tearing her eyes away from her food as she shoved it aside. "Not like that – like you."

"Then why, Kate?" he pressed, knowing that he was hurting her, but needing her to know why she'd hurt him first.

"I don't know – I wasn't thinking," she said, seeming to realise that this wasn't enough as she took a deep breath, too ashamed to meet his eyes as she continued, "Or maybe I was, and I just needed to know what it would be like, in case the Others killed him, and I never got another chance. So I wouldn't have to wonder. I was confused, Jack." She looked up at him, pleading for him to understand. "You were always so reserved – I had no idea how you felt about me until the day of the rescue."

He was trying to be supportive, but he couldn't help the hurt that he felt at these words. "So because I didn't tell you I wanted to screw you like he did, you thought I wasn't interested?" he snapped, jumping to his feet, but her shocked look didn't satisfy him the way he'd hoped it would. "I shouldn't've said that, Kate," he told her, massaging his forehead, when her eyes clouded with tears.

"It's true," she agreed, looking so miserable it was all he could do to stand his ground. "I knew what he wanted, and I gave it to him. I deserved everything I got – and probably more. I'm just glad there weren't any lasting consequences. If there was a baby..."

Slowly, he could feel himself softening towards her, letting go of his anger as he sat back down beside her. "He shouldn't've abandoned you like that, Kate," he told her gently, "but I'd be lying if I said I didn't see it coming."

"I know, I'm sorry," she whispered, choking on a sob. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"It's okay, it doesn't matter now," he assured her, pulling her into his arms to show her know that he forgave her. "This week is supposed to be about second chances."

"So you don't think I'm damaged goods now?" she asked, her tone earnest as she settled against him, leaving a damp patch on the front of his t-shirt where her tears fell.

"It'd be unrealistic of me to think you've never been with another guy," he told her, which he realised afterwards was a kind of non-answer, "I just happen to know this one," since in truth, he couldn't stand the images that sprang to mind every time he thought of Sawyer touching her, especially when he already had a vivid frame of reference.

He wasn't sure if it was the jealousy of knowing that his rival had had her in a way that he was yet to experience, or the strange turn the conversation had taken, but something made him bold enough to ask, "What about me? Did you ever wonder about me – what it would be like?"

She lifted her head, looking at him, startled, and he wondered if he was being too forward, until she admitted, "Yes, all the time."

She was watching him intently, her eyes wide, silently asking him the same question; without thinking about what he was doing, he brought his lips down to hers, encouraged when she reached up to cradle his head in her hands, drawing him closer.

As their kisses grew more intense, he found himself easing her onto her back, aware of, but no longer in control of his actions; she responded by pulling him down on top of her, tugging his shirt over his head.

Pausing to look down at her, damp curls splayed out across the pillow beneath her, eyes full of love and pure, unadulterated trust, he couldn't believe that it was finally happening, but as he helped her rid herself of her tank top, nuzzling her throat, he couldn't help the nagging sense of doubt that overcame him. They'd waited so long for this: did he really want their first time together to be in a cheap motel room while she was out on bail, waiting to find out whether or not she was going to prison? It might be their last chance, but if it wasn't, he knew he'd always regret it.

"I'm sorry, Kate, I can't," he told her, shifting off of her and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, in spite of the disappointed look she was giving him.

Replacing his shirt, he handed hers back to her, surprised when she didn't put up a fight. Instead, she slipped it on wordlessly, pulling him back down to lie beside her. "When I'm free," she breathed against his ear, kissing it as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, burrowing into his chest.

"When you're free," he agreed, pressing his lips to the top of her head as her breathing slowed, and she began to drift off, realising that this was quickly becoming their mantra.

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Next chapter: Kate goes to her hearing... and begs Jack not to come. ;) 


	17. Chapter 17

Thanks for the reviews. A lot of you seem to think I made a mistep by not having Jack and Kate act on their desires -- I would love to hear more of your thoughts on this, although I tend to go by my instincts, and my instincts told me that Jack (unlike Sawyer!) would never allow it to happen there, like that, with them both so vulnerable, especially when it was likely to complicate things. I know I said the hearing was this chapter, but I decided to push it back to chapter 18, and focus on their last (?) days together instead.

Oh, and if anyone's interested, I just posted part one of what I like to call the "missing" flashbacks from I Do -- it's called "To Have And To Let Go". All part of my ongoing fascination with "Konica"! ;)

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Chapter 17. Promise

Even with Kate nestled against his chest, Jack couldn't seem to fall asleep that night, thinking about the hearing; more than once, he had to stop himself from calling Marc, recognising, to his frustration, that there wasn't anything more he or anyone else could do until they were in the courtroom.

If he called him, he knew that his friend would only tell him to go back to sleep and hang up on him. He wouldn't answer again after that, assuring him later that it was for his own good; that he was doing him a favour by saving him from himself.

Jack wished that he could share his confidence, but in spite of his brave words, telling Kate that he wanted to wait for better circumstances to cement their commitment to one another, he couldn't help worrying that he'd missed his one and only chance to be with her, that, in her words, he would always wonder. There was a little part of him that debated waking her up and telling her that he'd changed his mind, questioning what she would do, but what she'd said was true: it had been a long and emotionally draining day for her; she deserved at least a few hours of uninterrupted rest.

So instead, he had to content himself with holding her close, watching her chest rise and fall, her slow, even breaths tickling his throat, trying to imagine what it would be like to drift off like that every night for the rest of their lives. If he gave in to his wildest fantasies, he could picture himself getting up with her at this hour to babies and nightmares and teenage dramas; in fact, he wanted that future for them so much that it hurt to contemplate sharing it with someone, _anyone_, else. If ever he was inclined to believe in "The One", it was after she'd wandered dazed and shell-shocked into his life, and shown him what real love was; how ready he could be to die for someone.

He knew that he must have succumbed to his own exhaustion at some point, because he woke to the sensation of her leaning over him, trailing tender, loving kisses down his shirted chest. "Hey," he murmured, grinning against her lips when, without warning, she brought them up to meet his in one of the most enthusiastic morning greetings he'd received in a long time, maybe ever. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had kissed him like that, even after sex. Towards the end, most days, Sarah had been gone by the time he woke up, and when she wasn't, she remained resolutely on her own side of the bed.

"Hey yourself," Kate returned, folding her arms underneath him, her body sinking back into his, her head tucked firmly under his chin. "Sorry about waking you up, but I figure we should try to pack as much as we can into the next couple of days, in case, you know…" She trailed off, and even though he couldn't see her face, he could feel her swallow against him, and he knew that she was fighting tears.

"Don't be – that was a much better wake up than I get from my alarm clock at home," he assured her, and she laughed, burying her face in his chest, her nose brushing his sternum.

He thought he'd succeeded in making her smile, and he had, to a degree, but when she lifted her head again, her eyes had misted over, and she was crying. "I love you so much," she whispered in a tone that made him feel a little like he was dying… or she was.

"Hey," he told her, the ache in his throat settling in again, gripping her shoulders in each of his hands as he struggled into a sitting position, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You haven't been sentenced yet – save the tears for when they're really necessary, okay?" He knew he wouldn't last long himself unless she pulled herself together, so to emphasise his point, he released her, cupping her face in his palms and brushing her cheeks dry with his thumbs. "I don't want you making yourself sick over something we can't change."

"Okay," she agreed, hiccoughing slightly as she did her best to suppress her emotions, putting on a brave face for his benefit. "What's on the agenda for today?"

In spite of the sense of urgency that he knew they both shared, wanting to cram forever into a few short days, in the end, they didn't do much, mostly touristy stuff like visiting the old Sherman Hill district, and the recently restored State Capitol building to look at the famous gold dome. At first, Jack couldn't get over how rural and quaint the culture seemed: all the talk of gardens and produce made him miss the beaches and palm trees of home; both the island, and L.A.; but this was where Kate came from, so he tried to muster a decent amount of enthusiasm. She'd lived in his world; the least he could do was experience hers.

The one thing he found himself suitably impressed by were the skywalks, like glass tunnels in the air, enabling people to move between buildings without touching the ground; those were like something out of the science fiction novels he'd loved as a kid. Even the name had a fun, futuristic charm.

After lunch, when they had nothing better to do, he talked Kate into following the system all the way along, all three and a half miles, from one side of downtown to the other, and even though she complained, she seemed happy enough, strolling along, holding his hand. If it weren't for the knot in the pit of his stomach that tightened with each passing hour, he might have been able to convince himself that they were a normal couple on vacation, instead two of people waiting to see whether or not they were going to be torn apart.

He took her to dinner afterwards, enjoying the novelty of being able to spend time with her in public, but by the third day, the day before the hearing, he couldn't find it in himself to get excited about arboretums or agricultural museums.

That day they spent at the motel, just talking, as they curled up on the bed, watching cable together, neither mentioning the elephant in the room for fear of jinxing the outcome. He learned a lot about Kate just by listening, things she'd never told him before: her best and worst memories (sinking with her mom and sitting with him on the beach, and watching her father pack up his car and drive away), that she'd broken her arm on a dare when she was ten… that she'd wanted to be a mother before anything else.

He really wanted her to have that chance: he wanted both of them to have that chance, because between them, with their histories, he thought that they could make decent parents, or at least, better ones than they'd had.

That night, as she lay with her head on his chest in the dark, she told that it was his turn to make her a promise, that if he wanted to support her, he had to promise that he wouldn't come to the courthouse.

"What you're asking is ridiculous," he insisted, turning on the beside lamp, and forcing her to sit up along with him, so that he could look at her, refusing to give in to anything that would deprive him of those last precious moments with her. "Do you really think I can sit here and wait for Marc to call? If they're gonna take you back into custody, I at least wanna be able to say goodbye."

Sighing, she fixed him with a look that would have broken his heart if he weren't so incensed. "They're gonna stand up there and try to make me look like a monster, Jack – whatever happens, I never want you to see me that way."

As comprehension dawned on him, and he finally understood what this was about, he softened, reaching out to trace the curve of her cheek with his thumb. "I don't, Kate," he assured her, and he meant it; he never had, even when the marshal tried to tell him that she was dangerous, "And nothing anyone says is gonna change that."

He would have resumed his protests until she reason, but she silenced him by pressing the tips of her fingers to his lips.

"Just promise," she repeated, giving him a meaningful look, and he did, so that they wouldn't have to spend their last guaranteed night together fighting, but in his heart, he knew that this was one promise to her he had no intention of keeping.

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Next chapter: The future of Jate gets decided (Review, and you'll get it sooner!)... ;) 


	18. Chapter 18

Thanks for the reviews. We're having some pretty crazy sudden storms here, so I was lucky to get this chapter out to you -- the power's been out of the last couple of hours! It actually went out while I was writing it! ;)

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Chapter 18. The Waiting Game

When Jack woke up the next morning, Kate was gone. Glancing over at the clock beside the bed, he felt his heart sink when he saw that it was 11:20, ten minutes before her hearing was due to commence. She would be at the courthouse by now, with Marc; picking up the phone, dialling his friend's cell, he wondered if she'd put something in his coffee to guarantee that he would sleep through her departure; if she had, it wouldn't be the first time that she'd drugged him. Then again, the past few days had been exhausting; physically mentally, emotionally; maybe it was all just catching up with him.

Marc answered on the first ring, his voice muffled by what Jack guessed was his hand as he hissed, "What're you doing calling me now, man? I'm in the courtroom – I was just about to turn my phone off."

Jack tensed at these words, realising that he didn't have as much time as he'd hoped. "Have they started the hearing yet?" he asked, tugging his suit out of the closet with his free hand.

"No, but they will in a few minutes," Marc confessed after a brief hesitation; setting the phone on the dresser, Jack changed as quickly as he could, not bothering to put on his belt or tuck in his shirt as he grabbed his keys and raced for the door.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he told him, stopping when Marc cleared his throat. "Uh… I don't think you're gonna make it, man – they're closing the doors as we speak."

"Damnit!" Jack spat, resisting the urge to hurl his phone across the parking lot. Of all the days to oversleep. "You came to pick her up this morning, right?" he asked, his need to vent causing him to turn his anger on the nearest target: Marc.

"Right…" Marc agreed slowly, seeming to know where this was going. "So…?"

"So, why didn't you wake me up? You knew this was important."

On the other end of the line, he heard Marc sigh. "She told me she didn't want you there, Jack – she's my client, I have to respect her wishes."

"You're _my_ friend," Jack reminded him, knowing that he was being childish, but not caring. He should have known that he wasn't fooling anybody by making false promises; that you can't con a con artist. Of course she hadn't believed him.

"I'm sorry, man," Marc said, and he could hear that he meant it. "I'll call you during the recess – maybe you can still make it down for the final decision."

He moved to hang up, but Jack wasn't ready to sever the connection yet. "Put her on," he demanded; he heard muffled voices, like an argument, and then Marc said, "Okay, man, but it'll have to be quick."

After another brief scuffle, and a longer silence than they had time for, Kate said, sounding nervous and reluctant. "Hi."

He was torn between the urge to yell at her, and break down as he asked, cutting right to the chase, "What haven't you told me, Kate? What don't you want me to hear?" He knew that it was probably irrational, but she'd gone to such great lengths to exclude him that he couldn't help wondering if there was a deeper reason for her it. He could forgive a lot of things; even this; but lies were never one of them.

"Nothing," she complained, on the defensive. "You know about everything – so does Marc," she lowered her voice, almost whispering into the phone, "Even the bank." After discovering that the men she'd been working with had already been arrested and tried for the robbery, they'd decided to omit it from their case. No one had believed them when they insisted that one of hostages was in on it; even the manager claimed that they'd operated alone.

"So why don't you want me there?" Jack pressed, frustrated by the fact that they'd already been through this. He didn't care what the prosecution said: they didn't know her like he did. They hadn't seen the good things she'd done.

"I told you," she insisted, but before she could repeat this excuse, he cut her off.

"_Why_, Kate?"

She took a deep breath, conceding, blurting out in a rush, "Because I have to hold myself together, and I can't do it if you're here. It's been hard enough the last couple of days." She was silent for a moment, battling with her emotions, then she said, "Goodbye, Jack," and without another word, hung up.

The next few hours were torture.

Each time he glanced at the clock, he was surprised to discover that only minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked, and he thought that he finally understood what his patients' families went through, waiting for news.

When he couldn't stand sitting in his motel room any longer, and he was sure that he was going to wear a trail into the carpet from pacing, he went for a walk around the neighbourhood, his cell tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt so that he wouldn't miss Marc's call.

He was sure that he'd never felt as relieved as he did when it rang again, his hands shaking so much that he almost hung up by accident.

"Hey, man, it's me," Marc said, even though the caller ID had already told him as much. "Do think you can get down here? The judge is about to tell us whether or not we're going to trial, and Kate's freaking. I don't think I've ever seen anyone go that shade of green before."

When Jack pulled up at the courthouse ten minutes later, they were waiting for him on the steps, Kate only slightly less pale than the conservative blouse she was wearing.

"How's it going?" he asked Marc, his earlier fury forgotten as he pulled her wordlessly into his arms, holding her close.

"Pretty well, I think," his friend assured him, grinning as he added, "No curve balls."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief into Kate's hair, but he couldn't relax yet, his heart hammering in his chest when Marc checked his watch, announcing, "We should probably go back inside."

It was all too much for Kate; after mumbling a barely coherent apology, she pulled away from him, managing to make it to the garden before she was sick.

"Can you get her some water?" Jack asked Marc as he rubbed her back, trying his best to soothe her. There wasn't much he could say to make her feel better though, so after accepting the paper cup from his friend, he made sure she drank it, letting her lean on him as they made their way back up the steps to the courthouse.

He wasn't officially part of her counsel, so he couldn't sit with her and Marc during the proceedings; hugging her one last time for luck, and kissing her cheek, he left her reluctantly to go sit in the gallery behind them as they waited for the judge to return. From his angle, he couldn't make out her expression, but he could see her shoulders shake as she tried not to sob too hard, or too loud, seeming to have already decided on the outcome.

Everything felt hyper real, like it was happening in slow motion, somewhere far away; he was hardly aware of his actions as he stood for the judge, then sank back onto the bench, watching Marc squeeze Kate's shoulder gently, wishing that he could be with her, holding her hand.

Afterwards, he couldn't remember much of what had been said; it might as well have been in another language for all the sense he made of it; just the complete and total joy of hearing that, due to a lack of sufficient evidence, it was the court's recommendation that the charge against her be dropped.

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Just so you know, I always planned it this way, which means, as you might have guessed, we're nearing the end. ;)

Next chapter: Kate's reaction... ;)


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks for the reviews. You guys really want Jabies, huh? ;)

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Chapter 19. Viva Las Vegas 

It was all so surreal; Kate just stood there, even after the judge had left, staring at the bench, seemingly unable to move.

Opening the gate that led to the courtroom, Jack exchanged triumphant grins, and places, with Marc, murmuring against her ear, "You're free, Kate."

She didn't look at him at first, turning her head slowly, blinking back tears, and he wondered what she was thinking, why she wasn't happier. It was almost like she was disappointed, like she _wanted_ to be punished, or at least, was still convinced that she deserved it.

"Smile."

It took her another moment to shake herself out of it, and then her look shifted to one of amazement, and she grinned as she echoed his statement. "I'm free. Do you know what this means?"

He was pretty sure that he did, at least to him; sliding his arms around her waist, bowing his forehead to hers, he said, "It means, no more running, no more excuses, just you and me, from here on in."

"Just us," she agreed, beaming at him, her eyes damp, as he pulled her into a long, drawn out kiss to seal these words.

"That's great," a voice behind them cut in, and Jack broke from Kate, remembering that Marc was still lurking around. "In fact," his friend continued, gesturing towards the door with his thumb, "I'm gonna just… go."

One arm still wrapped around Kate, Jack glanced over at her and they both laughed, the colour slowly returning to her cheeks as they took on an endearing pink glow. Even though he was dying to be alone with her again, to follow through on the pact that they'd made, he knew that he spoke for both of them when he said, "We'd really like it if you came with us to celebrate – you have to at least let me buy you a beer."

Marc still looked uncomfortable, his eyes flicking from Jack, to Kate, and back again knowingly, but he smiled. "Well, if there're free drinks involved, I guess I could always catch a later flight…"

They left their cars at the motel, and after changing into more comfortable clothes, walked to the bar up the street.

Even though he'd joked about freebies, Marc insisted on buying the first round, lifting his glass to toast both of them. "To Kate… and Jack," he began seriously, flashing them his trademark mischievous grin as he added, "Don't forget – you owe me a namesake. I'll accept Marc, Marcus, even Mark, if you wanna shake things up a little."

Rolling his eyes, Jack couldn't help returning his friend's grin as he said, "Sure, man, we'll get right on it," and Kate blushed furiously for the second time in less than an hour, causing both men to laugh.

"Ah ha! So I _was_ right," Marc gloated, looking smug, once they'd both sobered up. "You two _are _together – 'bout time."

For once, Jack couldn't agree with him more; glancing over at Kate, he squeezed her hand, and she smiled, gazing back at him with adoration.

"You know, you two really should get a room," Marc teased them, "You're grossing out the clientele," even though the bar was almost empty, but he nodded his approval to Jack, and he knew that his friend didn't really begrudge him the happiness he'd found with Kate.

They stayed at the bar until five, when it began to fill up with workers, then Marc sculled the remains of his beer, and stood up, retrieving his coat from the back of his chair. "As much as I hate to break this little party up, I've gotta be in court tomorrow at nine, so I'll see you two lovebirds later," he said, hugging each of them in turn before heading back to the motel to pick up his rental.

Watching him go, wondering what they were going to do now that they were alone, an idea occurred to Jack, one that surprised even him. "You know what we should do?" he said to Kate, turning his attention back on her, rushing on, when she shook her head, "We should just hop on a plane and go to Vegas tonight."

Her lips formed the first syllable of a question, and he was fairly certain that she thought he was losing his mind, not that he could blame her. "I thought you were kidding about that," she confessed, furrowing her brow in confusion. "What about the car? We can't just leave it."

He didn't really have an answer for that, but he decided that tonight wasn't about being pragmatic, it was about celebrating the fact that they were home, and they were finally free. "I'm trying to be romantic and impulsive here, Kate," he told her, biting back his grin. "It doesn't really work if you try to rationalise it."

"In that case, we can always come back and pick it up later," she agreed with a happy smile, leaning in for a long, enthusiastic kiss that made him wonder if they were going to make it past their motel room.

After a flurry of packing that didn't leave much time for fooling around, they made it to the airport, dumping the car, and boarding a red eye flight to Nevada.

As the plane shuttled down the runway, preparing for take off, Jack felt Kate grasp his hand, his own stomach bottoming out, and he almost wished that they'd waited until morning and driven, but he found himself relaxing when the bright lights of Vegas came into view, and she straightened in her seat, trying to get a better look.

"It's so beautiful," she breathed, her eyes shining with excitement, twisting in her seat to show her gratitude with a slow, tender kiss, and a whispered, "Thank you," before turning back to the window to watch their descent.

From the airport, they caught a shuttle bus to the Strip, passing a myriad of hotels, resorts and casinos, but even though there were so many places that he couldn't wait to show her, all he could think about tonight was Marc's suggestion, the thought making his whole body tingle with anticipation.

"That Marc is a smart guy," she purred, low and suggestive, against his ear when he told her; as she continued to express her approval by trailing her lips along his jaw line, he caught the looks some of the elderly tourists were giving them, but he ignored them, knowing that there was no way they could ever understand what they'd been through to get to that moment, or how much they deserved it.

In spite of the lack of build up, he wanted their first night together to be special, so he booked a room at The Mirage, one of the most expensive, and decadent, hotels, not only in Las Vegas, but anywhere in the world, but they might as well have stayed at the motel for all of the attention they payed to the décor.

Fumbling with the lock, he managed to kick the door open without letting go of her, and they collapsed onto the king-sized bed in a tangle of arms and legs.

"You know, this might just be the single most romantic night of my life," she gasped between kisses, as they picked up where they'd left off the day of her arrest, making short work of each other's clothes.

"I'm gonna have to agree with that," he told her, trailing his lips across her bare skin, feeling her shiver beneath him, realising that the reality of having her in his arms was so much better than anything he could have dreamed.

He was so overcome with the need to finish what they'd started days earlier, that he almost forgot that he wasn't any more prepared tonight than he was then. "Uh, Kate?" he said, forcing himself to curb his impulses as he propped himself up on one elbow beside her, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

"I know you're a gentleman, Jack, and that's one of the things I love about you, but if you tell me you can't do this again…"

"It's not that," he assured her with a breathy laugh, "Believe me, it's just that with the hearing and everything, I haven't exactly had time…" but she cut him off, giving him a look that said, "Is that all?" as she cupped his face in her hands, pulling him back down to kiss her.

"It's okay, we'll risk it," she breathed against his lips, sending alarms bells off in his head as he remembered the fear and uncertainty of their first few days off the island.

"It's not okay, Kate," he told her, breaking free from her again, "I saw what you went through with Sawyer – I don't wanna do that to you."

"You won't," she argued, serious now, her green eyes locking on his, full of meaning as she added, looking nervous and excited at the same time, "I didn't say it because I wanted you to hurry up, I said it because I can think of worse things than having your baby."

Her words left him speechless. "Are you saying you want us to try to get pregnant?" he asked when he recovered his voice, just to check that he wasn't imagining it, in two minds as to whether or not he thought that was a good idea. He loved her, it was true, even wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but a baby, that was… HUGE.

"Not exactly," she confessed, suddenly self-conscious, and he could see that was afraid he would reject her proposal, "but if we did… I think it would be okay. I know what I want now.

"Besides," she finished with a wicked grin, "Marc's counting on us."

He was about to tell her that they should think about it before doing something so permanent, but then he realised that he'd done nothing _but_ think about it since he'd first offered to help her raise Sawyer's child.

"In that case, we don't wanna disappoint him, do we?" he agreed, feeling like his heart might burst from being so full as he drew her in for another lingering kiss, part of him already hoping that tonight, fate would still be on their side.

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I actually always planned on them having this conversation, although it was nice to know that you guys think they're ready. ;) I'm not gonna apologise again -- you guys have read enough of my work to know that I'm better at writing emotions than sex. 

Next chapter: Vegas fluff! Tahti suggested a spur of the moment Vegas wedding before heading home to L.A... ;)


	20. Chapter 20

Thanks for the reviews, and a special thank you to Philadelphia for being so honest. I'm glad that you see what I was trying to do now. ;)

This final chapter (I know, I suck, but it had to end sometime!) is dedicated to Tahti, for coming up with the idea (I was going to end it last chapter), and egging me on. It's probably not exactly what you had in mind, but hopefully, it's just as good, if not better! ;)

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Chapter 20. I Do 

Jack was the first one awake the next morning, tightening his arms around Kate and drawing her as close to his chest as he could without waking her, smiling into her hair when she adjusted to his movements as if they were an extension of her own. He was sure that he'd never felt as complete as he did basking in the afterglow of what was easily the most perfect day of his life; he was pretty sure he could die right then without regretting a thing, even their decision to let nature take its course.

While the memory was still etched into his brain, and he doubted that it would ever leave him, he couldn't help thinking that a child would make what had happened between that much more meaningful; he understood now why she hadn't wanted to safeguard against it.

The thought of welcoming a little piece of them, of that night, in nine short months filled him with warmth; he was still grinning when she stirred, stretching languidly as she copied his expression. "What're you smiling at?"

"Nothing," he told her with a coy grin as he brought his hands up to her face, pulling her down for a long, morning kiss.

He let go of her when her stomach rumbled vocally, and he realised that aside from the snacks that they'd been offered on the plane, neither of them had eaten since before the hearing.

"I'm starving," she admitted as she sat up with the covers drawn to her chest, her cheeks flushed pink, and he couldn't resist teasing her by saying, "That can't be good for little Marc."

Her whole face turned scarlet, and she ducked her head, hiding behind a mess of tousled curls, but he saw her hand drift to the place where the sheets covered her belly, as if she too had already begun to prepare herself.

Even though he was mostly kidding, and it was too early to matter, he knew that making sure she was well fed couldn't hurt. The healthier she was, the better their chances. "We can go down to one of the restaurants and get breakfast," he told her, fumbling for his jeans, "They should have a buffet," but she caught his wrist, drawing his attention back to her.

"Or we could just stay up here and order room service," she added with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, grinning as she dragged him back into bed with her, forcing all thoughts of getting up out his head.

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They stayed in bed for most of the morning, getting their money's worth out of the room, but even so, Jack was eager to explore the rest of the hotel. After promising to resume their private celebration after dinner, he managed to convince Kate to get dressed and come down with him to the lobby, where they inspected the one hundred foot long aquarium neither of them had paid much attention to on the way in, before checking out the casino, shops, spa, and garden and dolphin habitat, agreeing to spend more time on each later. 

They were both starving again by then, so, since aside from their court clothes (which Kate playfully suggested they burn), they hadn't thought to pack anything besides jeans, they went to one of the more casual restaurants, which offered a buffet of ethnic foods.

As he sat with her at one of the open booths along the walls, taking in the Spartan décor and kitschy stripped carpet, it occurred to Jack that this was the first time he'd ever been able to share a meal with her, and feel completely at ease, without having to worry about boars or Others or the future, or lack there of. It made him realise how much he'd missed it; how much he'd missed being normal; and how much he wanted it keep doing, for the rest of their lives.

He wasn't sure what made him say it exactly, any more than he was sure of what had convinced him to bring her of Vegas, all he knew was that he wanted her to agree more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. "I've been thinking," he told her, keeping his voice conversational so that he could pass it off as a joke if she didn't, "and I decided that if you're gonna have my baby, you should marry me too."

She put her fork down, and glanced up at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement, and he couldn't tell whether or not she knew he was serious. "That's a bit medieval, isn't it, Jack?"

"No, it's not," he explained, knowing that he hadn't said it out of some old world sense of decency, any more than she'd said that they should risk getting pregnant because she wanted to have sex, "not when I mean that if there's a baby, I want of us to be a family."

"And if there's no baby?" she asked, teasing him, though her expression had an underlying seriousness, and he could tell that she was thinking about what he'd said. She just needed to know that he was in it for the right reasons.

"I still wanna spend the rest of my life with you," he confessed, and she smiled, her eyes shining as she agreed, leaning forward to kiss him over the table.

"We've got a couple of hours before we go back to the room," she said with a coy grin when she returned to her seat. "If you want, you could make an honest woman out of me."

"You don't wanna wait and have a proper ceremony?" he asked her, having already dismissed the idea of a quickie wedding as insane. He was pretty sure that his mother would disown him, especially after learning that his bride was an ex con – almost – and he thought that she might want her father there, to walk her down the aisle.

"I don't wanna wait," she agreed, kissing him again, adding, with an impish grin, "Think of what a great story we'll have to tell little Marc."

"All right then," he said, beaming at her, deciding that he could almost get used to this new, moment to moment way of living. It was liberating, to say the least, though he knew that things would probably return to normal as soon as they got home. "But I'm gonna have to draw the line at having an Elvis Impersonator perform the ceremony."

* * *

As it turned out, they didn't need an Elvis Impersonator; after asking around, they found a chapel away from the Strip called The Chapel of Flowers, that held small, intimates ceremonies as well as elaborate traditional weddings. 

Even though it was just the two of them, they decided to dress for the occasion; while Kate went to search for a dress, insisting on upholding the tradition of not letting him see it, Jack bought a new suit, one that didn't carry such mixed memories with it. He wanted them to have a clean slate, just like he'd promised her on the island, and somehow, ridding themselves of the past seemed like an integral part of that.

They hadn't had time to choose a song; even if they had, Jack couldn't think of one that did their love justice; so they settled on Pachebell's Canon in D, and after changing into her simple white dress, her curls pinned loosely on the crown of her head, like a halo, Kate made the slow walk towards him, looking so beautiful, and yet still so much like the woman he'd fallen in love with that he wanted to cry, and not from anger, or fear, this time. If he wasn't already crazy about her, enough to marry her, he was sure that he would have been after seeing her like that.

She stopped when she reached him, squeezing his hands; as the celebrant began to speak, Jack couldn't take his eyes off her, or her off him. He could see that she was fighting back tears of her own; she almost lost it when he said, "I do," and again when it was her turn, swallowing hard before answering.

They were both feeding off the raw emotion the other was projecting; he wasn't sure he would be able to get through his vows without succumbing to it, but as he began to speak, his gaze locked on hers, the rest of the world faded away, and it was just the two of them, confessing their love for each other, this time with no confusion, and nothing to separate them.

"I Jack, take you Kate, to be my wife, loving what I know of you, trusting what I don't…" he began, knowing that couldn't have expressed himself better if he'd tried; it was as if those words had been written for them, for him.

While they'd decided to use traditional vows, they'd agreed to personalise them as best they could by each selecting their own; as he spoke, she beamed at him, and he knew that this was exactly what she'd been hoping to hear, that he loved her regardless of all of the mistakes that she'd made.

When he finished, she took a deep breath and started with, "I Kate, take you Jack, to be my husband, my partner in life, and my one true love," but she didn't make it much further than that before the flood gates burst, and she began to cry, covering her face with her hand.

"I'm sorry," she choked out; "It's okay," he told her, shifting it away gently so that he could see her face, surprised, and relieved, when she whispered, "I know".

He could see then that she was smiling; as he ducked his head, bringing his lips down to meets hers, he heard the celebrant joke, "Maybe we should just skip to the part where I tell you to seal the promises you've made with a kiss," but Kate pulled away from him, shaking her head.

"No, I want to finish," she said, closing her eyes to get her tears under control. "Where was I…?"

"I will cherish our union…" the celebrant prompted her, and after repeating this, she continued, "…and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you, cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad…" here she faltered again "…regardless of the obstacles we face. I give you my hand, my heart and my love, from this day forward, for as long as we both shall live."

By the time she reached the end, they were both crying openly; when the celebrant told him to, Jack slipped the ring onto her finger, next to the diamond one he'd bought her at the hotel. She did the same for him, fumbling with the matching gold band, her hands shaking, and then the celebrant pronounced them husband and wife.

There was no one there to congratulate them, but as they floated out of the chapel, elated, still clinging to each other's hands, Jack wouldn't have changed it for the world.

"I thought yesterday was the most amazing day of my life," he told her as they headed back to the hotel to start their honeymoon, "but now…"

He grinned at her, and she grinned back, her eyes still damp as she pulled him in for their first real kiss as husband and wife. "I'm gonna have to agree with that…"

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Next chapter: As some of you already know, this time around, the epilogue will have slight twist: I'm going to switch perspectives and bring back a character most of you will have forgotten about... ;) 


	21. Chapter 21

Thanks for the reviews. Those of you who guessed that Sawyer would be back for the epilogue are right, although not to ruin Jack and Kate's marriage... (For anyone who's reading "The Love She Wants" by Lost-Chick, I actually came up with the idea for this chapter back when I was writing "Secrets and Lies", so I was in no way influenced by her! I was actually quite upset when she posted a similar scene!) ;)

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Chapter 21. The Better Man 

Sawyer didn't even know what he was going to say to her when he saw her.

It had been too long; he doubted it would change the way she felt about him. She must hate him for walking out on her like he did; he would have hated her too, if he hadn't gotten there first.

A little part of him still did, for getting under his skin like no other woman, even Cassidy, ever had, and making him break his vow never to apologise for anything, _especially_ a con. And it had been a con, because as hard as he tried deny it, he couldn't escape the fact that he really had loved her, even if he was too selfish and scared to know what to do about it.

Not that he'd ever believed his love was reciprocated; maybe for a minute, in that cage, before he realised those were just crocodile tears. That just like that day on the beach, when she'd told him she knew the letter was his, she _felt sorry_ for him. That was all it had ever been.

The tears she'd cried for Jack, though; now _those_ were real.

He wasn't looking forward to explaining all this; he thought about doing them both a favour and just staying gone, and he probably have, if it wasn't for the last words she'd spoken to him.

"_So what about the baby?"_

He didn't even know if there was one, but when he thought about Clementine, and badly he'd screwed up there, he realised that he couldn't keep fathering children and abandoning them, encouraging them reason to hate him the way he hated his own father. He wanted to be a better man than he had, and taking responsibility for his own failures was a part of that.

That was how he found himself at a memorial concert for the limey rock star, who, last he heard, was still lying somewhere at the bottom of the sea, searching the crowd for her, hoping that she would show up, alone, and willing to at least hear him out.

She didn't, and he was afraid that that meant the police had finally caught up with her, because she'd loved Charlie like a brother, until he managed to sweet talk Claire into giving him an address.

When he found it on the map, he thought she must have gotten it wrong: it was one of those upmarket residential neighbourhoods on the outskirts of L.A.; he went there anyway, just in case it was an apartment complex or something, his stomach tightening at the sight of the immaculate Spanish-style split level home. She was doing well for herself then if she could afford a place like that; he tried not to think too much about what "well" could mean.

He considered knocking, but he was afraid someone else would answer the door, since it wasn't the kind of place a person lived alone, so he put his car into gear, meaning to leave her to her quiet life, when the door opened, and two figures came out: Kate, and a tiny, dark haired girl he knew on first sight had to be her daughter. She was the spitting image of her, from her unruly chocolate brown curls, to the freckles that dotted her cheeks.

Stalling the car, watching her buckle the kid into the back of her SUV, like one of those suburban soccer moms, he noted with disgust, he realised that she couldn't have been more than two years old. It didn't take him long to do the maths and come to the conclusion that it had been less than three since he'd seen her.

So he waited for her to pull out of the driveway, and followed them, with the intention of "bumping into" her wherever she was going.

She pulled up in an underground garage downtown, transferring the kid from her booster seat, to her hip like a pro as she set off across the car park; he trailed them to the bank, the dry cleaners, and a series of other places he knew she'd never buy his presence before he settled on just calling her name, out on the street.

"Kate!"

She reacted to his voice, but kept walking, and he wondered if she was ignoring him, or if it was possible that she just didn't realise he was talking to her. Hers was a pretty common name.

"_Since when did you call me Kate?"_

Remembering her words, he tried again. "Freckles!"

That got her attention; she stopped, her brow furrowed in confusion as she searched the crowd, her eyes narrowing when they landed on him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, whether or not she was even a little happy to see him.

"No one's called me that in years," she said in what might have been an accusing tone when he approached her, eyeing him warily, as if she knew that he'd cornered her, and wanted more than anything to get away.

"You're game," he told her, mostly for something to say, part of him wishing that he'd just left her alone as planned, "coming out in broad daylight."

"I'm free," she responded coolly, and he cocked his eyebrow in surprise. "The charges were dropped."

"Lucky you."

An awkward silence fell over them, and she glanced at her watch, because she had somewhere she needed to be, or because she wanted him to think that she did, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't ready to let her go yet. "Do ya wanna go somewhere and get a drink? I think there's still some stuff we needta talk about," he said, tipping his head at the kid, asleep on her shoulder, and she gave him a confused look

"I've got time for a coffee," she agreed, pointedly mimicking the gesture, and he let out an embarrassed chuckle, running his fingers through his hair, realising that his first mistake in trying to be responsible was encouraging her to bring a kid to a bar.

"Yeah, right," he agreed, following her to a coffee shop across the street, where he stared at the menu, not recognising anything on it, before ordering himself a plain black coffee, and her a herbal tea.

"Does she…?" he began, gesturing to the sleeping kid, wondering if he should get her one of those babychinos people were always going on about, or a juice box, or something, but Kate shook her head.

"She's okay – we're just about to have lunch."

"So why'd you ask me here, Sawyer?" she asked, sitting back and folding her arms once they were seated; it wasn't until she'd gotten up to get one that he realised he should have chosen a table with a highchair for the kid, at least, brought one over. He couldn't seem to do anything right by them, no matter how determined he was to make up for lost time.

"Ain't it obvious?" he said, glancing over at her daughter, who'd begun to stir the moment she put her down.

Kate held his gaze for a long moment, finally seeming to understand him as she gave him what almost passed for a sympathetic look. "She's not yours, James."

"_There ain't no baby, Kate. And if there is? It ain't mine."_

The words came flooding back to him, and he knew that he should have been happy she was letting him off the hook (hadn't he told her to hope that there wasn't?), but he couldn't bring himself to accept what she was saying, not when it meant what he'd known all along, but hadn't wanted to believe.

She'd moved on.

"Are ya sure? If she ain't mine, then who's the hell is she?" he asked, fixing her with a determined look in case she was lying, the edge in his voice waking her daughter fully, and it was at that moment that she opened her sleepy brown eyes.

_His_ eyes.

"Her name is Ava," Kate told him with an affectionate smile as she reached over to ruffle the little girl's curls. "Ava Grace Shephard. She was born ten months after the rescue."

He knew he was grasping at straws, especially since she looked exactly like _him_, down to the suspicious way she was frowning at him, but he couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "So? Maybe she was late…"

"She wasn't," she told him firmly, her eyes darkening with anger as she retorted, "I took a pregnancy test right after we got back, and again a couple of weeks later. You never wanted a baby, James, so stop acting like you're disappointed. We both got off easily."

The kicker was that he really was disappointed: a kid would have given him a reason to force his way back into her life. "So what about you?" he asked, trying not to let her see how hurt he was, how much it killed him that he'd had her first, and he'd given her up. She was right, that wasn't his kid, but it could've been. "Are you a Shephard now?"

"Yes," she agreed, and sneaking a peak at her left hand, he wondered how he could've missed such an impressive rock. It wasn't too big; _he_ was nothing if not practical; but Sawyer had been in the business long enough to know that it was expensive, the kind of ring he would have looked for in choosing a mark.

"I bet ya had one of those weddin's with the cryin' aunts and the singin' doves and all that Hallmark crap," he told her bitterly, surprised when she laughed.

"Actually, it was in Vegas, right after my hearing. We found out we were having Ava a couple of weeks later, so we're pretty sure she happened sometime around then."

She beamed down at her daughter, who had started squirming in her highchair at the sound of her name, kissing the tip of her upturned nose, and he wasn't sure whether or not she was trying to rub it in, but hearing how perfect her life was now that he wasn't a part of it hurt, more than he would ever admit.

Especially when he knew that it served him right. He shouldn't have expected her to wait for him to come to his senses, especially when he knew that Jack was just waiting for his chance.

Looked like he got it.

"So is that allya doin' these days, changin' diapers?" he asked her, but if she picked up on the hint of malice in his tone, she didn't react to it.

"We talked about me going back to school once Ava was old enough for day care," she admitted, and he hated the way she began every sentence with, "We," now, as if she and Jack had somehow merged into a single entity. "But when I got pregnant again, we just agreed it made more sense for me to wait until the baby starts kindergarten."

"You're…?" he began, choking on his coffee as his eyes drifted to her lap, and he noted, for the first time, what those chick magazines would have referred to as a baby bump protruding beneath the loose fabric of her shirt. He hadn't seen it before; he'd been too distracted by her daughter, the one he'd thought was his.

"Pregnant. Sixteen weeks," she agreed with a smile, and he thought she looked almost smug as she continued, "It's a boy, so we're calling him Marc, after a good friend of Jack's."

She seemed to be deriving some sort of satisfaction from hurting him after the way he'd treated her. "One more, and you'll have the cliché," he told her in retaliation, "You already got the SUV," earning himself a disgusted look.

"You're stalking me? That's pathetic, even for you." She checked her watch, standing up. "I have to go – we're having lunch with Daddy, aren't we, Ava?" she said, and the little girl nodded, chanting the name happily as she lifted her out of the high chair. "Thanks for the coffee, Sawyer – it was great catching up with you," she added, her sarcasm palpable as scooped her purse up off the seat and started out of the coffee shop.

"Kate," he called when she was halfway to the door, desperate for some kind of closure, and she stopped, seeming to want the same thing. "For what it's worth…" he couldn't bring himself to say, "I'm sorry," so he nodded, and she gave him a feint smile, that silent understanding still there.

"Thanks, James," she said softly, nodding back, and then she walked out of his life, to go meet the man she'd chosen over him.

She seemed happy enough with how her life had turned out, but he wanted to be sure, so he followed her again, this time to the hospital.

Jack was waiting for them in the cafeteria in his scrubs, sipping coffee as he paged through a newspaper; he stood when they approached, kissing Kate, and pulling a chair out for her before settling Ava in his lap with his stethoscope.

_He_ hadn't forgotten the highchair, Sawyer noted bitterly as he watched the three of them; soon to be four; sit down together as family, and he couldn't help thinking that, in the end, the better man had won.

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So that's it, the end this time. Sawyer got his comeuppance! ;) Don't forget to review! 

I'm probably going to take a couple of days off (maybe even finish the poorly-received Kate/Kevin two-shot), but I'm working a new concept that will more plot-based than some of my other fics. It'll still be Jate, but it's kind of hard to explain: "Course Correction" meets _The Butterfly Effect_, based on the idea that while saving Kate, Desmond somehow manages to transfer his power to her, enabling her to travel back in time and change things, not always for the better. I thought it would be fun to explore from her vantage point, since she has a lot of regrets. At the moment, I'm calling it "Change One Thing, Change Everything" after the movie tagline. ;)


	22. Ava Part 1

I seem to be suffering from the same Jate depression as a lot of other writers (particularly after hearing the spoilers about the love triangle being around for a long time to come). I'm having trouble remembering what I love about these characters, enough to want to write two fics about them fighting for a relationship I'm beginning to doubt will ever happen, so rather than disappear off the face of the earth, I decided to revist the fic I had the most fun working on.

So here it is, part one of my totally random, totally self-indulgent tie in two shot, based on some left over ideas I was never able to incorporate. It was longer than I thought it was going to be, so I decided to break it up, but I will post the rest tomorrow if people are interested. Then I might get around to updating "Going Back" (I'm working through some plot complications created by the "Oceanic 6" thing at the moment.)

I'm dedicating it to Shavanda, who keeps telling me that there needs to be more written about Margo, and who I promised a birthday one shot to a month ago and still haven't finished. ;)

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AVA

PART 1.

_Just relax_. That was what she'd said. _I'll be there as soon as I can_. As if Kate could with the imminent threat of her mother-in-law arriving on her doorstep.

She hadn't wanted to call her, she really hadn't, but with Jack in surgery, Marc in court, and Claire not answering her cell, who else was she supposed to call to drive her to the hospital? She could have rung for an ambulance, she realised in hindsight, but it was too late now. She was already on her way.

Since marrying Jack, she'd discovered that her first assumption had been right: Margo Shephard was the one dark cloud hanging over her otherwise peaceful existence, the one regret she had about assimilating herself into her son's life. Everything else had been great, from the low-key ceremony, to the moment she'd learned that she was carrying their first child.

_Eight Months Ago_

_After another long day of interviews, Kate was fidgeting on the couch, waiting for Jack to get home so that she could share her news. None of them had proved very fruitful; she'd been offered a waitressing job downtown, but if she took it, she knew that their hours would clash, and she would only ever see him as she ran out the door; but the day hadn't been without its rewards. It had brought her the biggest surprise of her life, even if it wasn't entirely unexpected. While they'd never officially agreed that they were trying for a baby, they'd never officially agreed that they weren't._

_It had been more than two weeks since they'd returned from their honeymoon in Vegas; standing in the isle of the grocery store, trying to decide what kind of toothpaste to buy, she was struck by the urge to pick up a pregnancy test as well, more out of eagerness than any sign that she might need one. Her period wasn't due for two more days._

_An hour later, she was perched on the edge of the bathtub, staring at another white stick, only the third time was a charm, because tonight, it was marked by a little plus. After putting him through the torture of waiting with her when it was Sawyer's baby they thought she might be having, part of her wished that Jack were there, but she knew that if she'd tried to explain this impulse to him, he would have suggested she hold off until she was actually late._

_So instead, she was faced with finding a way to break the news to him. She played out a thousand different scenarios in her mind, everything from announcing it over dinner, to casually mentioning it as they washed up, but when the door opened, and he came in, she found that she couldn't restrain herself any longer._

"_We did it!" she cried, pouncing on him._

"_Whoa, what did we do?" he asked, blinking as she knocked the wind out of him, throwing her arms around his neck, her legs encircling his waist._

_It probably wasn't the best of ideas, under the circumstances, but she couldn't help it: she was excited. She was finally going to have a real family, a family with Jack. "This," she told him, showing him the test, still clutched in her hand, "We made a baby," and a slow smile spread over his face as he tilted his head to kiss her._

"_I guess we did," he agreed._

And now here she was about to give birth, that was, if Jack's mother ever showed up.

Speak of the devil...

Kate uttered another lengthy sigh at the sound of her knock, brusque and impatient, like the woman herself. What she wouldn't give for another mother in law like Suzanne, instead of this…

"Margo, hey – thanks for coming over," she said with a grimace when she unlocked the door to find her standing on the porch, arms crossed, leaning back on her heels, the engine of her car still running.

"Just out of curiosity, how many people did you call before you called me?" she asked, and Kate would have lied and said none, had she not been certain that she wouldn't believe her.

"Three," she confessed, watching Margo purse her lips into a thin, colourless line.

"Who?"

Kate sighed again. "Jack, Claire… Marc."

"You called Marc?" Margo repeated with an incredulous look, and Kate felt a stab of guilt. He would have been a nervous wreck, but at least he wouldn't make her feel like a disobedient child, like she'd set out to ruin his plans.

"Well, never mind, I'm here now, so let's get this over with," she went on in her haughty tone, scanning the hall to make sure that they hadn't forgotten anything. When she spotted the backpack hooked over Kate's shoulder, she couldn't hide her disapproval. "That's all you're taking? What about the car seat? Please tell me you don't intend to strap the baby in and hope for the best."

"It's in Jack's car, since he'll be the one bringing us home," Kate agreed with an air of defiance as she pulled the door shut, waiting until the lock clicked into place to follow her.

"You know you don't have to do this – the mother thing," she told her when Margo took the bag from her, carrying it the rest of the way to the car. "All I asked was for you to get me to Jack. I can take care of myself from there."

Margo paused with her hand on the small of her back, and she thought she must have pierced her thick skin, until she turned her head, meeting her eyes with a stubborn look. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she agreed, helping her into the backseat like a cop with a perp, and it was with a sinking feeling that Kate realised she wasn't going to be able to lose her like she'd hoped. "Then you can tell Jack all about how mean I was. No, you'd better get used to it, because until he gets out of that OR, you're stuck with me."

Kate was too tired to argue at that point, so she sank into the leather upholstery with her eyes closed, massaging the side of her belly as she waited for Margo to slip back into the driver's seat. She was focusing on her breathing, trying to get the pain under control, when she heard her ask, her voice beginning to grate on her frayed nerves.

"So, do you know what it is yet?"

"A baby," she told her as she exhaled, giving her a strange look, trying to decide if this was some kind of new slur on her.

"You're such a comedian, dear," Margo retorted, lifting her eyes to meet Kate's in the view mirror. How could they be so much like Jack's, and yet, so different? So cool and disapproving. Now wonder Jack had a miserable childhood. "You know what I mean – do you know the sex? I know you girls can't wait to find out these days."

So that was it. She was making conversation. "Jack and I decided to go traditional," Kate assured her, relaxing, until Margo responded with a theatrical snort, and she realised that it had all been a trap.

"So traditional you got married in Vegas and waited an entire month to tell anyone… except Marc," she reminded her, and Kate broke eye contact first. It had been Jack's decision to keep their marriage quiet at first; she was his mother; but she hadn't exactly tried to talk him around. It was exciting, having a secret that had nothing to do with her past.

"Imagine my surprise when I go to visit my son, to find out why he's disappeared off the face of the earth again, only to have him tell me that the woman he's sharing an apartment with is his _wife_. He never even told me he had a girlfriend. I'm not sure he would have told me about the baby either, if you hadn't taped those damned sonogram pictures to the fridge."

Kate bit her lip, to hide her smile, wondering what Margo would say if she admitted that, _technically_, she and Jack hadn't become a couple until a few days before the wedding, and that even then, it was only implied. "It's not like we planned it that way," she complained, feeling small and helpless against the attack. She needed Jack; he was the one Margo was really mad at, the one who could make her stop talking. "Everything just sort of… happened."

She sighed again as Margo's eyes strayed to her belly in the mirror. "Clearly."

* * *

I decided not to go into too much detail about Kate's labour, because there's only so much to say... 

Next chapter: Kate and Margo talk names, Jack arrives, and so on... ;)


	23. Ava Part 2

Thanks for the reviews. I'm pleased that no one seems to think this little two shot was unnecessary:)

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AVA

PART 2.

Kate was sure that the fifteen minutes it took them to get to St. Sebastian's were the most painful of her life, physically _and_ mentally, but finally, Margo parked the car, and helped her out, gripping her arm as if she thought she might run.

Kate couldn't say that the thought hadn't crossed her mind, but it was taking everything she had to keep putting one foot in front of the other, so she resigned herself to walking up to the main building with her.

"Now, do you have your insurance papers?" Margo prompted her with another disdainful glance at her backpack at they approached the nurses' station. "Lord knows I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to answer any of those questions. I don't even know your last name… you do go by Shephard, don't you?"

"Yes, Margo," Kate agreed on both accounts, scanning the halls for some sign of Jack, or someone who could take her to him, and away from his mother, but he still hadn't emerged. He'd had an hour to finish his surgery, or find a replacement; the knot in her stomach tightened as worried that the nurse she'd spoken to had forgotten to deliver her message. She didn't want to do this without him, or worse… with Margo. It was more than anyone, even an ex con, should have to endure.

She was relieved when her OBGYN appeared, leading her through for an exam while Margo was stuck at the counter, filling out forms, muttering that this was something her son should be doing.

Kate couldn't help but smile when, from around the corner, and a few doors down, she heard her demand that they page Jack again, and keeping paging him, before she went into the OR and hauled him out herself. It might be because her husband was the former chief of surgery, or just because she was a formidable woman in her own right, but all the nurses seemed a little afraid of her.

She didn't have the strength to move from the bed once everyone left, so she was curled on her side, eyes closed, breathing again, waiting for Jack or the baby, whichever came first, when she heard Margo's voice again, closer this time, jolting her out of her dream state.

"What are you doing?"

She kept her eyes shut for a few seconds longer, drowning her out, but the moment was gone, the sense of peace she was beginning to feel evaporating.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm having your son's baby," she reminded her when she looked up to see her standing in the doorway, her mind too clouded with pain to think of a smart retort.

"Not like that, you're not," Margo assured her, putting her purse, and Kate's backpack, down on the chair, and coming over to help her sit up. "Come on, up. On your feet."

"Are you crazy?" Kate insisted through gritted teeth, all of her energy focused on getting through the next contraction, but as Margo continued to guide her up off the mattress, it became apparent she wasn't going to cut her any slack. "Why?"

"Gravity, dear," she explained in her curt tone, keeping a tight grip on her arm so that she wouldn't be tempted to return to her former position. "You want to speed things along, you need to help the baby out."

As Margo helped her walk to the end of the bed, where she could brace herself against the frame, the corners of Kate's mouth twitched into a smile. She was giving her advice, the kind a mother would give to her daughter. It was… nice. Weird, but nice all the same.

But she barely had time to digest this before the moment passed, and Margo returned to her interrogation. "Have you chosen a name?"

She couldn't have brought it up at a worse time; in the middle of the most gut-wrenching contraction to date, Kate had no patience for her and her lectures, not unless she was offering more tips for getting them both out of their faster. "What?" she ground out, hot faced and flushed as she lifted her head to give her an incredulous look. "Do you really think now is the time?"

"Would you prefer me to wait until the baby's in college?" Margo countered, folding her arms as she settled into one of the visitors' chairs. "I want to know what you're thinking of naming my grandchild – I don't want any of this 'Apple' nonsense you read about in the tabloids. Children need good, solid names to help them establish a sense of identity – like Jack. You think he would have grown into half the man he is today if we'd decided to call him something like '_Pilot Inspektor_'?"

Forgetting her discomfort for a moment, Kate smirked at the image of Margo standing in line at the grocery store, flicking through the pages of _Entertainment Weekly. _As much as she hated to admit it, they were in agreement: over the past year, she had come to love the name Jack, and all the positive associations it brought to mind. Jack would never agreed to it, though; he would think it was too pompous to name his son after himself.

"If it's a boy, we're calling him Marc," she confessed, grinning as she pictured the look on his face when they told him. In spite of his ribbing, no one was more shocked than he was to learn that they were married, and that the firstborn he'd teased them about was on its way; they'd practically had to pick his jaw up off the floor, probably because he knew better than anyone how brief their courtship had been.

"Marc?" Margo repeated, eyeing her with what almost passed for a wounded look, and Kate wondered what she'd done to offend her this time, until she added, in a slighted tone, "I forgot the three of you were such great friends."

She seemed to have her own ideas, so after riding out the rest of the contraction, Kate asked, "What would you suggest, Margo?" her voice coming out terse and irritable as she tried to keep her temper from flaring.

"I just thought you might want to consider naming the baby after Jack's father if you plan on giving it a family name," Margo said, and Kate lost the struggle to hide her exasperation. It was one thing to offer advice, but she had no right to lay that kind of guilt on her, or on Jack.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Katherine – I'm serious," Margo admonished her when she caught her look, reminding her a little of her own mother. She was always criticising her too.

"I wasn't rolling my eyes," she complained, even though they both knew that this wasn't true, but Margo was having none of it.

"Yes, you were, dear," she assured her, her lips quirking with amusement, and as hard as Kate tried, she couldn't hold onto her anger. They both enjoyed these verbal sparring matches, more than they were willing to admit. In spite of their backgrounds, they weren't all that different: these encounters appealed to something defensive in each of their natures, something about the way they were used to interacting.

"What if it's a girl?" Margo continued as if she hadn't noticed, and Kate couldn't resist baiting her.

"Let me guess – Margo? Or maybe you want us to name her after your great aunt Maud?"

Margo raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at her, seemingly impressed with her cheek. "You might be in pain, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you be rude. Save the sarcasm for your husband – he's the one who go you into this mess," she told her, her eyes alighting with a barely perceptible twinkle. It was almost a joke.

"We wanted something classic, to fit in with our names," Kate explained, in answer to her question, deciding that she'd let her sweat on the Apple / Pilot Inspektor issue for long enough.

Just as Kate knew she would, Margo had an opinion on this, but it wasn't what she was expecting. "Ava – that's what I was going to call my daughter," she confessed, sounding almost civil, and as much as Kate hated to let her win this round, she had to admit that it was better than her previous suggestion.

"That's pretty," she agreed, glancing up from the floor once the pain ebbed, and she could breathe again. "Do you know what it means?"

"Like a bird. Free," Margo told her, and she smiled, a genuine smile, without trying to hide it this time.

It was perfect: if there was one thing she wanted for her child, that was it.

Freedom.

Margo flashed her an awkward smile in return, neither of them noticing that Jack had entered the room until he cleared his throat.

Margo was the first to break eye contact. "I'll leave you two alone," she said, standing, and picking up her purse. "Remember, what I said – I don't have all night," she added to Kate, all brusqueness and impatience again as she swept past him, out of the room.

"I'm sorry about that," Jack told her as he wrapped his arms around her almost non-existent waist. "I hope she didn't give you too hard a time. I think she's still a little mad at me for not introducing you to her sooner."

"No, she was actually pretty good," Kate assured him, settling back into his embrace, so grateful for his presence that she forgot she was supposed to be mad at him. She was just relieved that he hadn't missed it.

Drawing her in closer, he leaned forward to graze her lips. "I'm glad."

When she went rigid at the next contraction, exhaling with a hiss of pain, he waited for her to relax before lowering his hand to the underside of her belly. "You ready for this?" he asked with a nervous smile, caressing it with his palm, and she knew that he meant more than the birth.

"Does it matter if I'm not?" she joked, forcing a grin so that he wouldn't think she'd changed her mind, and he kissed her again, a soft, gentle kiss that was meant to reassure her.

"Me neither, but we'll figure it out."

* * *

Hours later, Kate was propped up against a mound of pillows, nursing their six pound, eight ounce baby girl, when a soft tap at the door broke the perfect stillness. 

Tearing his eyes from their daughter, but making no move to unclench her matchstick fingers from around his little one, Jack glanced over at her, and she gave him a slight nod.

"Come in," he called.

In spite of her barb about not having all night, Margo was still there, waiting for a glimpse of her grandchild; she was almost timid as she approached the bed, handing a small, pink bear to Jack. "Just a little token for now – now that I know she's a girl, I have a better idea of to get her," she told them, sounding almost apologetic.

"It's great," he assured her, setting it aside.

She shifted her focus to the baby in Kate's arms, her expression unreadable.

"Do you wanna hold her?" Kate asked, offering the little bundle to her, and she accepted it with a curt nod, but her eyes were shining, and for the first time, Kate thought she saw through to the real woman underneath.

"She has your eyes," she told Jack; the ones he'd inherited from her; and Kate knew that it wouldn't be long before their daughter had her wrapped around her finger as well.

The next words came as a surprise. "You did well," she said, with a fleeting glance at Kate, as if the whole day had been a test, and Kate wasn't sure how to respond.

"Thanks," she said, relieved when Margo returned her attention to the baby.

"Have you settled on a name yet?" she asked again, and this time, Kate smiled.

"We're calling her Ava," she agreed.

* * *

That's it for now, but if I decide to write any more "Missing Pieces" (That makes a cool pun!), I'll be sure to post them. Feel free to let me know if there's anything in particular you'd like me address... ;) 


	24. Some Things Never Change

Thanks for the reviews. Since the Ava two-shot was so well received, I've decided to add another "Missing Piece": a Christmas one shot, as requested by Ann Patrick.

Just a quick note: since a lot of people seem to be away at the moment, I probably won't update my other fics until some time next week... ;)

* * *

SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE

"Look, Jack – mistletoe," a voice whispered against his ear, sending him back in time to the night, little more than a year ago, that they'd found themselves in a similar position.

_She was silent; she didn't appear to be listening, looking up from the box with an expression that he couldn't place._

"_What?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious at having her full attention on him._

"_Mistletoe," she said, that one word packed with hidden meaning as she stretched out her palm to show him what she'd just found…_

Sure enough, when he followed her gaze, he saw that it was.

"That means you have to kiss me," Kate reminded him with a grin, and this time, he didn't hesitate before bringing his hand up to her jaw, pulling her closer as he leant in to caress her lips.

A lot had changed in a year; so much that there were mornings when he was struck by the sense that he'd woken up in someone else's life. He'd been happy before, but not in a way that had prepared him for the bliss he'd experienced since returning from Vegas with Kate as his wife. He'd believed then, after moving back into his bedroom with her, that there was nothing more he could ask for, until the night she ambushed him at the door and announced that she was pregnant.

Eight months later, he realised how wrong he'd been.

Smiling, he stepped back from Kate when a set of small, but strong fingers closed around his shirt. "And you, too, I guess," he told their daughter, rugged up in the little red coat and hat that his mother had bought for her, pressing a kiss to the tip of her delicate nose, and she let out a contented gurgle.

"I'm not sure I like the idea of you kissing other girls – should I be worried?" Kate joked, and he wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her shoulders as his lips brushed her temple.

"There's no need to be jealous, Kate – there's plenty of me to go around," he told her with a grin, and she laughed, shifting Ava to give his side a playful swat.

"Where were you just now?" she asked once they had both sobered up, moving on through the fake snow and greenery. Now that she was free, they had made it past the storefront displays, taking Ava to see Santa, before deciding to look for more inside. "You seemed like you were a million miles away."

"I was just thinking about that night…" he confessed; he didn't have to elaborate, because her smile told him that she was aware of which one he meant. "Do you remember what I said to you?"

"I remember you kissed me," she teased him with an affectionate grin, snuggling deeper into his side in spite of the heat, "and that for some reason, you stopped. I don't know which one of us was more disappointed."

When she paused to let this sink in, he was afraid that that was all she remembered, until she lifted her head, regarding him with a serious look. "You told me things would get better for me," she agreed, and he watched her eyes travel to Ava, nodding off against her chest, a soft smile lighting up her features. "You were right."

"I should have said things would get better for both of us," he told her, pulling her to a stop, fighting back the tide of emotions that rose inside him whenever he allowed himself to acknowledge how close he'd come to losing her; this. "You have no idea how grateful I am to have you and Ava in my life. I don't know what I'd do without you – either of you."

"And you have no idea that _you_, Jack Shephard, are the best thing that's ever happened to me," she returned, her own eyes growing damp as she stretched up to place a soft kiss on his lips. "If it wasn't for you and Marc, I'd be spending the holidays in a prison cell in Iowa."

She was looking at him with such open adoration; at moments like this, he still couldn't believe that she'd chosen him, that she was his. "In that case, Merry Christmas," he murmured, pulling her in for a longer kiss, less concerned than he should be that they were standing in a synthetic forest in the middle of a crowded department store.

It wasn't the most romantic of settings. "What d'you say we just get one of these trees this year so we can go home and start the celebrations?" he suggested, keeping his forehead bowed forehead against hers, confused when she broke free with an incredulous look.

"You're kidding, right?" she insisted, and he shook his head, bewildered, wondering if he'd somehow read her wrong, until she continued, "You want our daughter's first tree to be one of these phoney plastic things?"

He had to fight the urge to laugh when she shifted Ava again, fingering the nearest branch with contempt. "She's barely eleven weeks old, Kate. She's not gonna know the difference."

He realised that this was the wrong answer when she took a step towards him, levelling her index finger at his chest. "So what you're saying," she teased, "is because she's too young to remember it, it's okay for us to cheat her out of the full Christmas experience? Maybe we should take her presents back too."

"I'm not gonna win this one, am I?" he asked her, feigning helplessness, and as she shook her head, looking smug, another fragment of conversation resurfaced.

_"You know what we should do?" she said. "We should get a tree."_

_"You mean chop one down?" he asked sceptically, wondering where she thought she was going to find one in L.A., or the state of California for that matter._

"_You never did that?" she said, looking surprised._

"_No, I never did that," he agreed._

"_Well I used to do it with my dad every year he was home."_

"You're gonna make me chop another pine tree down, aren't you?" he said with a mock exasperated sigh, even though he knew he could never deny her anything that meant that much to her.

The tradition that she'd started with her father had now become theirs, and tradition dictated that he never let her see how much he enjoyed it.

Her grin turned impish, and he could tell that she'd made up her mind when she agreed, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "You got anything better to do?"

* * *

After making their way back to the car, and strapping Ava into her car seat, they drove north towards Oregon, stopping only to pick up coffee, and an axe, along with some rope. 

As he'd come to expect, the drive hardly seemed worth it when they returned with the raggiest, most undernourished pine tree he'd ever laid eyes on; one that somehow managed to be worse that the last; but she was happy, and that made it hard for him to complain.

A lot had changed in a year; he still felt like he was living someone else's life; but it was nice to know that some things never would.

* * *

Next chapter: You tell me... ;) 


	25. The New Mrs Shephard

Thanks for the reviews. I hope you all had a great Christmas. :)

I considered doing another Christmas one shot (with both kids helping Kate choose a tree for Jack to chop down), but I didn't get anything written in time. So instead, the next "Missing Piece" is one I've been mulling over for a while... ;)

* * *

THE NEW MRS SHEPHARD

After almost a month of marriage, Jack knew he should be used to it; still he couldn't help but smile each time he woke to find himself tangled up with Kate, her cheek against his sternum, or the nape of his neck, her soft breath tickling his skin.

"Morning," he murmured when he opened his eyes onto her languid green ones, pushing himself onto his elbow to graze her lips. "Morning baby."

She shared his grin as she watched him draw back the sheets and slide down her body, squirming as he pressed a kiss beneath her navel. "Since when did you start calling me 'Baby'?" she teased as he moved back up to the top of the bed, settling onto the pillow beside her.

"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to my son – little Marc," he assured her, unable to conceal his excitement as he tried to come to terms with the news she'd given him the night before. They were having a baby. He was going to be a father.

"What makes you so sure it's your son?" she asked, and for half a second, he was afraid of what her words might mean, until he realised that she was laughing.

"Are you trying to tell me something, Kate?" he deadpanned to cover his confusion, and she smiled.

"Just that there's no way you can know it's a boy when a doctor couldn't even tell us that."

"I am a doctor," he reminded her with a grin, and she shot him a dubious look.

"Oh, and that somehow makes you magic?"

"Maybe not, although…" he trailed his fingers down her side, over the bare skin of her hip "…what is it they say about doctor's hands?"

He waited until she gave him a dreamy smile, her eyes glazed over with anticipation, letting his fingers wander halfway up again before rolling her onto her back and sneaking his hands under her arms, laughing when she shrieked in protest.

"Have I ever told you what a tease you are?" she gasped as she struggled to fend off his attack, managing to hit him square in the chest with his own pillow.

"Once or twice," he agreed, conceding defeat as he pushed the pillow aside, and ducked his head to meet her lips.

"That's better," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him, but before things could progress, the doorbell rang.

"Let's just ignore it," she said when he broke the kiss to look at her, her hands skimming the muscles of his back as she pulled him in closer, and he almost forgot what it was that they were supposed to be ignoring, until it sounded again, more urgent this time.

"It could be important," he pointed out in response to her frustrated groan, pressing a couple of short, consolatory kisses to her lips as he slid out of bed. "Hold that thought, and I'll get rid of whoever it is as fast as I can."

Throwing on the first articles of clothing he could find, a t-shirt and an old pair of jeans, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or irritated that it was Marc on the other side of the door. At least it wasn't his mother. He still wasn't sure what he was going to tell her.

"Hey man," he said, sighing when Marc invited himself into the apartment. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Just checking that you're still alive – and that you didn't get lost on the way back," Marc agreed with a smirk, eyeing the clutter that neither Jack, nor Kate, ever seemed to get around to dealing with. Somehow, they always managed to find better things to do. "You realise it's been almost a month since you ventured out of your little love nest? I hope you're at least going to work."

Jack considered denying that that was why he hadn't been to see him, but at that moment, the bedroom door swung open, and Kate emerged wearing one of his shirts.

"Jack, who…?" she stopped when she saw Marc, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks as he raised an eyebrow at her, glancing from her to Jack with a knowing look, and even Jack found himself avoiding his friend's eyes.

"Marc, hey," she amended with a tight smile, tugging at the bottom of his shirt, which ended halfway down her thighs, seeming to fight the urge to slink back into their room and change as she continued on the path to the kitchen. "We were just about to have breakfast – you want anything?"

The look he gave her said, "Sure you were," but he nodded as he sank onto the couch with a bright, innocent smile, almost as if he were enjoying himself. It wasn't often that he got to make Jack squirm like this. "Coffee would be great."

Determined not to give him the satisfaction of hiding out in the kitchen with Kate, Jack settled into an armchair adjacent his friend, ignoring his smirk as they waited for her to return.

After handing a mug to each of them, she fetched a glass of orange juice for herself, perching on the arm of Jack's chair with one arm slung across the back.

"So…" Marc began to break the awkward silence that had descended over the living room, Jack unsure how to open the conversation. Somehow, "Guess what? We got married in Vegas," just didn't seem right, although there was always, "Remember how you said we owed you a namesake…?".

"Was it your intention to snub the man who made all this—" he waved an arm in their direction, encouraging them to take note of how cosy they looked sharing a seat when there were plenty of others "—possible, or did you just decide to turn the trip back into one long, continuous honeymoon?"

His choice of words was coincidental enough, but when Jack turned to Kate, he couldn't help but laugh, and neither could she.

Unless he'd abused his connections, there was no way that he could know that that was more or less what had happened; realising that he was missing a private joke, Marc shifted his gaze from one to the other, fixing them each with a mock wounded look. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just…" Jack swallowed to compose himself, but he couldn't conceal his grin "…You're right, we stopped in Vegas for a couple of days."

"Must've been some vacation," Marc said, sounding disgruntled as he tried to guess at the punch line.

Jack glanced at Kate again, and they exchanged elated smiles. "It was," he agreed, deciding that this was as good a moment as any they were going to get. "Do you wanna tell him, or should I?" he asked her, hoping that she would let him be the one to wipe the smirk of Marc's face.

"Go ahead – he's your best friend," she told him with an encouraging nod, and he felt his smile widen.

When he returned his attention to Marc, his friend was looking thoroughly bewildered.

"You, my friend," he told him, picking up Kate's hand and squeezing it, "are looking at my wife – the new Mrs. Shephard."

If she thought this was too much, she made no attempt to tease him, beaming at him, her eyes shining with pride as he titled his face up to kiss her, resting her head on his shoulder as they turned back to Marc. "It's true – we got married in Vegas," she confessed. To illustrate her point, she held up her left hand at him, giving him the chance to admire her rings.

When Jack flashed his matching gold band, Marc stared at them with an incredulous look, until a smile of slow dawning realisation crept over his face. "I get it. This is a joke, right, to get me back for that whole firstborn thing?" He let out a self-deprecating chuckle, acknowledging how close he'd come to falling for it. "The rings are a nice touch – very cute."

"It's not a joke," Kate assured him with a frown, pursing her lips as she looked to Jack for support. "We really are married."

Jack could see that Marc wasn't going to be convinced, not without proof; rather than repeat himself, and her, he went to his desk, returning with their marriage certificate. "You're a lawyer," he told him, handing it to him to inspect without feeling the need to explain it. Marc knew how to read a legal document; he also knew how to tell when one was forged.

"This is real," he muttered after a moment's deliberation, his smile disappearing as he set it down across his lap, meeting each of their eyes in turn with a sheepish look.

"Oh, it's real all right," Jack agreed, grinning as he settled back down beside Kate, slipping his arm around her. He wasn't surprised that it had taken Marc a while to believe them; he could hardly believe it himself.

Marc took one last appraising look at the certificate before standing and returning it to him. "So what're we doing here? We should be out celebrating," he said, his excitement palpable, and it warmed Jack's heart to see him looking so thrilled in spite of the craziness of the situation. "Come on, get dressed – drinks are on me."

His smile faltered when he noticed that neither of them had moved, watching them hold another furtive exchange with their eyes. "What now? Don't tell me there's more."

"Kate can't drink," Jack explained, wondering if he should elaborate when he of all people knew how many things could go wrong. Wasn't he the one who'd warned Kate off telling people when they'd discussed it the night before? Then again, Marc was his best friend…

"She didn't have any trouble back in Iowa," he complained, looking more confused than ever when they both laughed.

"Remember what you said about us owing you a namesake…?" Jack began, before Kate chimed in with, "I'm pregnant. We just found out last night."

If he'd looked amused before, now he looked almost annoyed. "Okay, so you were telling the truth about Vegas, but how can I be sure you're not yanking my chain for real this time? You've gotta admit, it stretches credulity. You're been together what, like a couple of weeks?"

"I guess you're just gonna have to trust us," Jack agreed with a grin. Once a lawyer, always a lawyer.

"And when there's no baby?" Marc continued, as if to force a confession.

"What makes you so sure there won't be a baby?" Kate asked, and looking at her, Jack could tell what she was thinking. A positive's a positive, he remembered telling her a long time ago. They hadn't seen the baby; but that didn't make it any less real than the piece of paper that informed everyone they were married.

"You're not kidding this time?" Marc checked when their confidence didn't waver.

"We're not kidding," Jack agreed, exchanging a grin with Kate. It was really happening. All of it.

Marc glanced from one to the other, and back again, sharing their smile as he finally gave in. "Wow, you two really have been busy."

* * *


End file.
